


Those Wings will be the Death of Dean (Winchester’s Heterosexuality)

by waitingfortheoncomingstorm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Case Fic, Dean just can't get those fucking tattoos out of his head, Lawrence Kansas, M/M, Masturbation, Season 9 canon divergence, Shipper!Sam, Tattooed!Cas, and lebanon kansas too, angsty!sam, because seriously? our boys would cuss up a storm in real life, but that's totally okay given this shit, canon to close to end of episode 9x03, casturbation, coming to terms with sexuality, discussions about consent, foul language warning, more characters will be added on as the chapters get posted, questionable possesion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1479649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingfortheoncomingstorm/pseuds/waitingfortheoncomingstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Listen, buddy. Um… You can’t stay.” Six words that broke pretty much everyone’s hearts. Six words that are still in this fic, but will take an utterly different turn in Team Free Will’s quest to vanquish evil from both Hell and Heaven itself. </p><p>The bunker may be warded, but with a hunter’s lifestyle, the body needs warding as well. With demon activity on the rise, a threat from Abaddon to possess one of the boys, and angels seeking out (undue) revenge on a certain former angel, Team Free Will needs to keep its guard up anywhere they go. That means their newly returned companion needs his warding as well. Unfortunately, while Cas’ new body wards may be helping to keep his guards up against their enemies, Dean’s guard keeps getting compromised any time his eyes wander over the new tattoos. And that’s just when he lets his eyes wander, not even when his hands start wandering too.</p><p>OR</p><p>The one where Abaddon lives up to her big bad hype, Reapers stick to canon, Death is pissed off, Gadreel is not so cuddly (though still pretty damn attractive), Bartholomew tolerates no insurgence, and Metatron is still a megadouche.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sigils

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be really canon divergent once the boys get back to the bunker but it’s going to hold some of the same or similar dialogue to 9x03. Since after this chapter it’s going to be REALLY canon divergent, you’ll see a lot less pull from the show, but I’ll still be influenced by the showrunners. So don’t expect a total AU, but it also won’t be the same as season nein. Funny enough, I totally meant to write a fluffy domestic bunker fic inspired from [this](http://waiting-for-the-oncoming-storm.tumblr.com/image/83009052060) post, but this kinda turned into what it is now. Anyway, hope you like it and leave a comment!

He’d seen the sigils before but hadn’t registered the marks since he was too busy focusing on the angel blade sticking out of his best friend’s naked chest. Dean had shanked that reaper with a vengeance like no other after “April” had skewered a newly human Cas in front of Dean’s eyes. Throughout all of their search Dean had envisioned finding Cas, taking him out for his first real meal, bringing him back to the bunker, and sharing the wonders of the shower’s water pressure with him (no, not like that! Showing him how it worked maybe, but not sharing the shower with him at the same time!). Instead, Sam and him burst through the door just in time for him to watch Cas die. Even if he’d been powered up at the time, it would have been the same since the reaper had used his own angel blade on him. Dean would have had to watch in horror the same scene play out, but this time he would have seen those great black shadows of his wings etched across the apartment walls. He shuddered to think about that. Losing Cas as a human had seemed so final, but if he would have had to watch Cas’ wings burn into the wall, no longer the imposing shadows from the barn that had stopped his heart, but instead a mark of final, permanent death… he doesn’t know what he would have done.

But Ezekiel had stepped in, no questions asked, and healed Cas to bring him back from beyond while Dean stood to the side unable to process the shit storm that had just happened. Seeing Cas open his baby blues and breathe out his name in disbelief, Dean sank to his knees beside his friend in thankfulness and utter relief. He couldn’t control his hands and brushed them gingerly over Cas’ thigh and cheek before he regained his faculties (and manliness) and stood up to bark out an order, “Never do that again!” Cas had simply deadpanned back to him, “Alright,” as if Dean’s gruff demeanor hadn’t affected him at all.

Apparently, Dean’s lie about the reaper bringing Cas back may have fooled Sam (he’d just seen Dean torture and kill another reaper in cold blood just hours before, and that reaper hadn’t even laid a hand on the former angel), but Cas wasn’t buying it. The boys had taken Cas back to the bunker where Cas did indeed get to enjoy food (burritos may not be diner food, but they sure can fill a guy up) and even noted the awesome water pressure of the showers without comment first from Dean (good thing that Cas was showing he knew how to appreciate the finer aspects of human life). After he was cleaned up and came out chatting with the boys, he shared more of his story over the past weeks. Dean had to hand it to Cas, he knew how to survive. Even without the Winchester patented bar hussle, Cas had managed to find shelter and food for all of that time, even managing to help out at the same time - it was such a Cas thing to do. When the story turned to “April,” Cas no longer spoke fondly (Obviously, right? The bitch killed him) and turned somber before announcing his next statement.

“I think that closing the Gates of Heaven has done more than just cast the angels to the Earth. That was not a human or angel that tortured and seduced me. That was a reaper possessing the body of April Kelly,” Castiel informed them. Well at least, he tried to get that all out, because after one word in that sentence, the two brothers coughed in a fit of disbelief.

“Seduced?! As in had sex with?” Dean sputtered, eyes wide. He had always meant what he said that he didn’t want Cas to die a virgin, but he was surprised to find out that Cas had figured out the whole shebang on his own. In fact, he was a little miffed that he pulled it off without him. Dean had always figured he’d be there when Cas finally popped his cherry (wait, not be there with him, just like help the guy out, wingman style is what he means).

Sam went a different route with his question, “Uh, Cas, did you have protection?” Oh Sammy, always the practical one.

“I had my angel blade, but we all can see how much good that did me.”

“Sammy, look out now, Cas had his angel blade. God, what a good set up for something else, amiright?” Dean winked over to Sam after grinning back at Cas.

His patented bitchface (Dean swears up and down that Sam’s gonna have that thing stuck on his face if he keeps throwing shade like that) cast over to his insensitive brother, Sam turned back to Castiel. “Condoms, Cas. If you’re going to be a human male now then...” Sam shrugged his shoulders, “you need to wear a condom to prevent disease or getting the girl pregnant.”

Cas narrowed his eyes and shook his head, glaring at the two supposed saviors of humanity sitting in front of him. “While I may be new at the acting upon the hormones of male anatomy, I sincerely expected more from the two of you. You’re entirely missing the point. That wasn’t a willing participant. While I certainly enjoyed the experiences at the time - “ Cas blatantly ignored Dean’s wide eyed cough of “Plural?!” - “I doubt I’ll look fondly on the times given that it was not with a compassionate young woman, but instead a being intent on killing me. And on top of that, given that the possession of humans by reapers is UNPRECEDENED, I have no idea if April Kelly was subject to the entirety of it all as well.” Cas sighed and cast his eyes to the ground while Sam and Dean sat in stunned silence in front of him. Dean wanted to throw a joke out to lighten the mood (hey man, with you, I’m sure April would have at least enjoyed the view), but he was instead caught up in the reality of the situation. He may have made plenty of rounds at the bars over his life, but he never took a girl back to the motel if she was too wasted (him being wasted on the other hand was a different story). He even knew what to check for in signs of roofies and had on one occasion stopped a douche from making a move on a probable victim of one. To think that Cas was thinking he was now one of those guys - shit, that sucked man.

Sam spoke up first, “Hey, you didn’t know, Cas. But it does sound like we need to start researching this reaper situation and other types of possession in general. There may be more out there that’s out of whack.”

“Yes, I do think more research is warranted, “ Cas said decidedly. He then looked curiously at Dean and asked, “Are there any more burritos?” With a positive response from a now grinning Sam, Cas headed off to the kitchen. Dean’s lips quirked into a gummy smile while watching the retreating back of the former angel, “Our little Cas.”

“You mean he’s YOUR - “ Sam’s eyes blared that now familiar yet eerie blue, “Castiel cannot stay here. He’ll bring the angels down on all of us. And he will work against our arrangement, Dean. If he stays, I’m afraid I will have no choice but to leave,” Ezekiel intoned with deadly seriousness.

“No, you can’t do that,” Dean retorted, face heavy with worry and a sudden tenseness. “Sam’s not well enough, that’s what you said. If you leave his body…”

“I know. I am sorry,” is all Ezekiel needed to say for Dean to make his choice. “ - little Cas,” the flash of blue preceding Sam’s snarky comment. But Dean wasn’t in front of Sam anymore, he was stalking off to the kitchen. “Dean, where are you going?”

“Need to talk to Cas,” was the only reply he got.

Why was this always happening to him? It seemed like the only thing he could trust as much as Cas always returning to him was that he’d be taken away from him again. Only this time, Cas wasn’t being taken or leaving on his own. This time, the one time he thought he’d get to keep his best friend by his side, Dean was going to be the one sending him away. The thought sickened Dean, quite literally turning his stomach and inflicting a wave of nausea. And this time, he’s powered down. Cas may have left Dean for his own missions before, but now he was just a human. Dean is going to be sending Cas out there on his own, after the guy had already gotten himself killed once (as a human at least). And if their recent escapade had proven anything, it was that Cas wasn’t going to have an easy time on his own. What if Dean couldn’t make it in time to help the next time Bartholomew sent his cronies after Cas? Would he even find out if Cas died as a human without him? Fuck, he had no identity anyway, let alone any reason why some random ass cop would know to phone Dean if they found his body. Dean might have to live the rest of his life never knowing where Cas was or if he was okay.

With these thoughts swirling around in his head, Dean’s body fell heavy against the side of the doorframe of the kitchen entrance. But one thought overwhelmed the rest, protect Sammy. So with a turmoil of self hatred overtaking him as he went to betray his best friend, Dean straightened up and walked fully into the kitchen.

Cas glanced up from his burrito, Dean again noticing that odd glint in his eye.

Dean steeled himself. “Cas, uh, can we talk?”

“Of course,” Cas replied and scooted his chair out from the table. “Dean, you know I always appreciate our talks, our time together.”

Our time together. Dean did too. He wanted more of it. He wanted to teach Cas how to shoot with a handgun, and spar, and have Cas teach him some of his own moves. He wanted to cook Cas a real meal right here in this kitchen and maybe have him help out like Sam always refused to do. He wanted Cas to work with Kevin on research and archives (Cas hadn’t even gotten to see the kid yet upon their return). And he wanted to show Cas every single movie the guy hadn’t gotten Dean’s references to. He wanted Cas… to be here with him, to have more time together.

But Sam needs to get better first. So with burgeoning hatred for Ezekiel forcing him to make this choice, but with his love of Sam in his heart, Dean cleared his throat.

“Listen, buddy. Um… You can’t stay,” Dean forced out with as much strength as he could muster (it wasn’t a lot). He stared him in the eyes, his own filled with sadness and concurrent resoluteness. 

Cas’ eyes softened in hurt and disbelief. He had suspected that something was amiss, but he hadn’t expected this. He thought he might finally get to live a life with the Winchesters that he had fought alongside for so long - this time as an equal.

“I need Sam to be okay and fully healed, and if Bartholomew and his gang track you here, I don’t think they’re going to go easy on us. I mean, you should have seen how he got thrown around by that reaper.” Dean hated every word that came out of his mouth, but thinking of the possibility of an angel fight here in the bunker and Sam the victim of one of those same blades… he knew he needed to do this.

Cas, on the other hand, began to see his suspicions confirmed. He knew right away that Dean had been lying because reapers had no power over life or death. They could only ferry the departed to the other side. But sitting in “April Kelly”’s ruined apartment still bloody from his most recent death had not been the right time to address the situation; now, however, looked much more appropriate.

“Dean, I’m warded from angels just as you and Sam are.”

“What? Who’d you get to do it for you? I thought all of the angels were out to get you. Why would one of them give you the chest sigils?”

“I went to a tattoo shop.” Cas scooted out his chair out fully and lifted his shirt to reveal the sigils dancing above the hemline of his low slung jeans. Dean’s eyes fixed on the tattoo and his mind skidded to a halt. This was a serious situation and Dean needed to keep his game face. But seeing that ink contrasting with Cas’ surprisingly tanned and toned body and so tantalizingly close to the edge of those jeans with just a peek of his underwear underneath… whoa, shit, Dean needed to course correct his gaze really quickly, but his mouth was still gaping and watered just a little.

And this was NOT the reaction Cas was expecting. He thought he might get a retort from a still debating Dean, but stunned silence and a lingering appraisal of his hipbones (damn fucking sharp ass hipbones Dean couldn’t help but think) was not what he expected. Wondering about this curious reaction, but realizing the importance of the situation, Cas lowered his shirt back down and Dean glanced back up to Cas with pink tinged cheeks. 

“I know that the sigils work since Bartholomew had to resort to using rogue reapers to find me. Angels can’t locate me anymore. And I also know something else, Dean. Reapers can’t restore life,” Cas stated pointedly, glaring at Dean - daring him to confess the truth with a pregnant pause. “So tell me, is it really you that wants me gone or is it the angel possessing your brother?” Cas took a risk with that question, hoping with all of his now human, beating, and aching heart that his friend would never have considered asking this of him if not for the life of his brother.

Dean’s heart dropped. He was caught now. Maybe Cas would understand that he had to leave to protect Sam. Maybe Dean wouldn’t have to be the betrayer. Maybe it would be Cas who is the one leaving instead of being kicked out.

He sighed and sat down next to where Cas had been sitting earlier, leaning his head into his hands as his elbows propped him up on the table. “It’s Ezekiel, the angel. He’s fixing Sam but it’s taking a long time. He was worried you’d be against the whole possession thing.”

“Then he’d be right.”

Dean’s head snapped up and anger flared. “What the fuck, Cas? Sam needs him to get better!” 

Castiel leaned towards Dean, realizing that the situation was about to spiral out of control.

“First off, healing from the inside of a vessel should not take weeks to complete. Secondly, if Ezekiel already had a vessel, why would he continue to inhabit Sam if he was already healed. Third, why would he threaten Sam’s life and use it as leverage over you. And fourth, why would Sam ever say yes to another angel, Dean?” Cas stared pointedly at Dean.

“He never really did. That’s why,” Dean whispered. His admonition was the first time he really let himself realize exactly what he had done when tricking Sam through Ezekiel. And tricking was the key word that stuck out in his mind. Dean had thought that Zeke was helping out of the goodness of his - do angels have hearts? Dean kinda doubts it based off of personal experience (except for the former one sitting in front of him). That only served to lead back to Cas’ questions and statements regarding the true intentions of the angel. Was Ezekiel lying to him? Was he - and Sam - being strung along, played like a fiddle to something Ezekiel was planning? Suddenly, Dean began to doubt what had happened over the past few weeks. However, Dean Winchester was Dean Winchester and Sam always won out.

“Cas…” Dean looked up at him. “I need Sam to be okay,” he pleaded. 

Castiel looked back deep into Dean’s eyes (as they were often wont to do). He cared about Sam as well and the past few years had taught him significantly about the strength of Sam’s devotion and character. He didn’t want Sam to come to any harm as well, but he also understood Sam deserved his own say over his life. While Cas thought about all of these things, he was still certain that something else was wrong as per his previous arguments. “I’m confident that Sam’s body is fine by now. He should have been healed within the first week.”

“But you couldn’t do it yourself before!”

“Healing from within the vessel is a different process, Dean. Think about when I first came to you. You stabbed me through the heart and Jimmy’s body was fine. From within a vessel, an angel fills it with their grace, they don’t have to transfer a small portion,” Cas countered.

Dean’s face wavered. “So, even after the fall, you’re sure Sam should be fully healed?”

“Yes. It appears that the spell has only taken away our… their... ability to fly,” Cas responded. He looked at Dean’s face, obviously working through the information. “Does Sam know about Ezekiel?”

“Not at all,” Dean replied. Cas always seemed to be able to get him to confess things. Dean trusted Cas with more than just his life, he could entrust his heart to him as well. That sounded so cheesy in his head (totally chick flicky god damn it), but he and Cas had literally been through angelic war together, fought through three realms of existence alongside the other, and his soul had been cradled as his body remade by Castiel’s hands. There was a lot you could confess to the guy when his first impression of you was the lowest you’ll ever go - quite literally.

Dean proceeded to tell Cas about Ezekiel and the hospital. Cas was secretly grinning with fondness and pride upon hearing about Dean’s sly angel banishing sigil and retort about Cas. Yet throughout it, Cas felt conflicted. Ezekiel had been a trustworthy companion on the field of battle and off of it. Helping the Winchesters seemed perfectly in character for the angel Castiel had known, but deceitful consent and then turning against Castiel just now? This was completely out of character. Cas let Dean known how he felt after Dean completed his story.

“So what are you saying? That Zeke has changed his stripes? Or that this might not be who he’s claiming to be?” Dean questioned lowly. He realized that while Sam would think nothing of Cas and him talking for this long together, Ezekiel (if he was indeed that fucker) might be getting suspicious.

“I’m not sure which is the case, but I do know two things: that his motivations are in question for threatening Sam’s life and that Sam would never want to be possessed by another creature, let alone an angel,” Cas said.

Once again, Dean thought long and hard. His guilt weighed on him for his previous actions. He needed Sam alive - he couldn’t bear to see Sam just give up like that. Sam HAD to have really wanted to stay alive. He did change his mind after all! But once again, Sam’s life was in danger because of Dean’s actions. What more would Zeke ransom out of Dean in exchange for his brother’s life? If he wasn’t afraid to do it once, what would keep him from doing it again?

“Okay, first things first. We need to get Zeke outta Sam if we’re going to ensure that his life isn’t held ransom like this ever again,” Dean started. “So how are we going to go about this? Zeke sees everything that Sam does even if he’s not present or whatever at the time. And if Sam is actually okay like you say, then calling his bluff won’t work. He could just decide to take Sam permanently as his vessel.”

“That’s what I’m most worried about. I suspect that Ezekiel may have been intending this all along. And if so, why has he stayed with you here in the Men of Letter’s base?”

“Bunker, dude, we call it the bunker.”

Cas shot Dean a short glare in response to his snarky correction and returned to the task at hand. “Do you remember back near the beginning, Dean, when Uriel had you torture Alastair?” Of course Dean did. Two moments stood out to him most during that encounter, his disgust and distrust of all angels began upon Uriel’s order and his burgeoning hope in Cas springing forth at the compassion Cas showed for the first time. “Well, in the ensuing fight of mine with Alastair, he began to use a particular demonic spell against me to cast me out of Jimmy’s body and back to heaven. I was able to best him before he finished it, but perhaps we can use the same spell. The problem is, we’ll need a demon to do it, it needs their power for the expulsion to work.” Cas’ eyes saddened upon realizing what he’d have to do and suggest next, but he was one of the best strategists in the garrison and he knew what he had to do. “I’ll leave the _bunker_ until we can figure out how to twist a demon to our needs.”

At hearing Cas’ plan, Dean realized their good fortune. He smiled before saying, “Cas, I can do you one better. I already have a demon we can twist just fine. We’ve had Crowley chained up in the dungeon since the end of the trials.”

“I’m going to let the fact that you have the King of Hell ALIVE in the dungeon alone for now. But Dean, are you sure about this?”

“Yes, we need to catch Zeke off his guard and tonight will be when he least expects it.”

Cas thought for a moment about the new information, about to start formulating a new plan when Dean cut in.

“We’re going to make it look like you really are leaving. But first, I’m going to go get you ‘stuff you’ll need while out on your own’ - a hunter’s toolkit of sorts. And with angels after you, holy oil only seems like the logical addition to the kit, amirite? I’ll hand it off to you and tell you beat it. You go outside and pour a circle of it out on the pavement by the driver’s side door of the impala - but I swear to god, Cas, if that holy oil gets on or too close to baby, I’ll singe off your eyebrows as punishment. Anyway, then I’ll tell Sam to go drive you to a bus station. Once Sam about gets to the door, you light that circle up and we’ll have him where we need him. That should give me plenty of time to go get Crowley and bring him up.” 

“And how do we get Crowley to comply with our demands?”

“I’ll work on that. In the meantime, I need to kick you out. You ready for this?”

Cas looked pensive for a moment. “It seems like a sound plan. Yes.”

“K, stay here. I’ll be back.”

Dean pushed back from the table and, before turning to leave the kitchen, placed his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas, I’m worried as fuck about all of this… but thank you.” Dean was obviously too worried about the impending plan, but his gratitude still showed through. 

Cas turned his head and in a very uncharacteristic move, smiled shyly and shook his head. “Anything, Dean. Anything you ever need.”

With that, Dean really did leave and went off to the bunker’s supply room and began packing hunter essentials into a green military duffel. While he knew that Cas wasn’t actually leaving, his former thoughts on the fragility of Cas’ new human life still haunted him as he made sure to still be thorough. Holy oil and a lighter went in first - Dean hoped that everything would go according to plan, but today’s excitement had been all over the place. Hopped up on adrenaline again, he set out to get this as precise as possible. 

Dean returned to the main area of the bunker to put on the appropriate show and called out to Cas in the kitchen, “Cas, get your ass out here!” Dean’s hollering not only brought Cas out from the kitchen, but also drew Sam and Kevin from their places in the bunker. Dean hadn’t wanted Kevin around for any of this. He was wary to risk the kid around the potentially dangerous situation - but Zeke, or any angel for that matter, wouldn’t dare touch a prophet right? Still he needed Kev outta there.

Before he could say anything, Kevin was already addressing the former angel. “Castiel? I didn’t know you were here…”

Dean could even hear the hesitation in his voice, wary of Cas’ previous tumultuous encounters with the prophet. “He’s on his way out. Kevin, go back to whatever the fuck you were doing. Cas here is leaving now.”

Sam turned and stared at Dean, his mouth dropping so low it only further proved that he knew nothing of the times that Zeke had taken over him. 

“Dean! What the Hell?! No, Cas, stay where you are!” Sam shot Dean with a fierce glare. He was so baffled and angry with his older brother that he didn’t even make a bitchface - simply a mix of acute disappointment and wrath showed over his features. “Dean! What has gotten into you?! Only yesterday you were so upset and worried over him not being here I had to drop your own pills you lie about taking into your drink to get you to sleep after nights of staying awake to research where he was! Now you’re kicking him out? The fuck man?”

Even though he was acting, Dean still didn’t - couldn’t - look Cas in the eye. “Cas and I talked about this, man. He’s a liability here while you’re still resting up and Kevin is with us.” Dean tossed the bag to Cas. “Everything you need is in there. Charlie will send along some IDs soon. Just… for now go wait by the Impala. I need to discuss something with Sam here.”

Castiel took off for the staircase leading up to the bunker’s front door, making sure to appear deliberate yet still upset. 

Sam turned sharply on Dean, “Seriously, I’m going to sound like a broken record here, Dean, but what the hell? You haven’t been the same since we started searching for him. You’ve waited by the phone every second hoping for another call from him - I know you have so don’t try to deny it.” Sam suddenly dropped his shoulders and sighed. “I had hoped you were finally wising up to what’s up between you and Cas and instead, you just throw him out. If you’re worried about my health, I actually feel better knowing he’s here alongside of us.”

Dean was thrown through a loop. Sam kept talking about this “thing” between him and Cas - the fuck? Where was all of this coming from?

“Is this about April?”

“WHAT?!”

“DEAN, are you upset that Cas slept with April? Regardless of the status of her… meatsuit?”

“What the hell are you talking about, dude? The guy isn’t a virgin angel anymore, good for him! I’ve been trying for years, man! Granted, situation sucks, blah blah blah. But no, this is about safety - yours specifically. And you see Cas walking out that door himself. I’m not throwing him out.” Dean had indeed been trying to get Cas laid (not by himself, just by his own hand… damn it, man, he means… oh fuck it all). Sam had him all flustered, but he realized that Cas must be ready by now after all this feelings crap from Sammy. “It’s just… Sam, can you drive him to the bus station? Take baby and gas her up on the way back. I just don’t want to be the one that does this.”

“Well, you are Dean. Cas should stay with us and if you can’t man up to do this yourself, then I’m going to stand by my friend to help him out. So you know what? Fuck you, Dean. I always hoped that SOMEONE would finally find a place in your heart along the same strength you felt about me, but I guess I was wrong. I’M going to go help Cas out, just… stay here and manly sulk or whatever you do.”

Dean was completely taken aback by Sam’s words. Everything started hitting him in the heart, the brain, the… everywhere. Sam was just reaching the door to the driveway outside when he realized that he still had a job to do. Life changing revelations would just have to wait until later. 

With a quick jog to the dungeon, Dean found Crowley sitting as primly as always in the hardback chair and shackled to the ground.

“Ah! Squirrel! Where’s Bullwinkel when you need him? Sounded like quite the shouting match up there,” Crowley crowed out to Dean upon him opening the door.

If Dean didn’t need him so badly, he’d seriously contemplate the demon knife from time to time. Instead, he schooled his features and turned to the King of Hell. “It’s your lucky day,” he smirked. “You’re going topside.”

“Oh the joy! How I’ve missed the sun and the rain and oh shut up you lousy git! What do you need me for? Something special I imagine if I’m to be let out of this… hell hole isn’t quite the word… sewer? Does that work for you?” Crowley’s accent rung abrasively in Dean’s ears.

“Just shut up and move,” Dean responded as he undid the bindings to the floor.

Meanwhile, outside the bunker, Sam exited the front door to find Cas leaning on the hood of the Impala. He stopped for a second right outside the front door. “Cas, I’m so sorry.” Sam’s eyes turned to the angel… FORMER angel, he’d have to remember that. “Dean’s wrong. You should be here with us. We’re a team, man. Have been for a long time. If you want to stay here in the bunker with us, I’ll support you. We’ll march back down there and tell Dean to shove it.” 

On any other day, Cas would have drunk these words in as if they’d been an entire liquor store. For such a long time, the two had distrusted the other, and even that was an understatement. He could even recall the first time that Sam had threatened him. At 6 foot 4 inches, his human form should have been intimidating, but since Cas was an angel only trapped in the body of the 6 foot Jimmy Novak, he wasn’t scared at all. He only stepped back into the man’s space and questioned just how Sam might accomplish that. So now, hearing that Sam would stand next to him against the only force in the universe that Cas seemingly always bowed to… he was touched. Funnily, if he were another… “man,” Sam would inevitably intimidate him. With Jimmy long gone (since his first encounter with Raphael at Chuck’s place), this was not only his vessel now, but his body. Cas felt very comfortable, but realized that he would need to keep orienting himself. However, in thinking of his friend Sam (regardless of the intimidation factor), he realized that he needed to act. Sam still hadn’t moved into the circle of holy oil.

“Well Sam, you know me… follow the leader,” Cas haltingly let out. “Can you take me to the bus station? I’d rather get this over with.”

“Any idea where you’re headed?” Sam asked while walking towards the door of the Impala.

Cas watched acutely and once both of Sam’s feet fell inside the line of oil, he flicked the lighter behind his back and dropped it to the ground. The fire lit suddenly, blazing around the tall man. Sam didn’t have any time to react before Ezekiel’s blue blare erupted from his eyes.

“Castiel. I should not have underestimated you. But what are you going to do to me now, brother? Leave me here for for all of eternity? Surely Dean will not allow you to hold his brother hostage. In fact, I relish seeing him happen upon you out here. He surely won’t spare you for his brother, I can see this all too well will be enjoyable to watch.”

Before Cas could counter with anything else, the door swung open to reveal a death glaring Dean. “Guess again asshat. He’s not the one holding Sam hostage, you are.”

Ezekiel then turned to Dean.

“Dean, you realize I could do so much to this body and Sam would be incapable of fighting back,” Ezekiel threatened.

“Ya buddy, I think not. You remember that big shot a while back? Lucifer was his name I think. Sam took over that fucking angel and I know he could do it again. This was part of your plan, wasn’t it? ‘Don’t let Sam know’ wasn’t just to keep my secret, but it was also to keep him from ejecting you.”

“This vessel held the foremost angel of heaven!” Ezekiel boomed out from Sam’s body. “When you offered him up, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to take back what was once Lucifer’s! He deserves this vessel!”

Suddenly, things clicked into place inside Cas’ head.

“Gadreel,” he growled.

This time Sam’s body turned back to the former angel. “Yes, you finally figured it out. But holy oil will not stop me.” Gadreel (not Ezekiel apparently?) started causing wind to blow across the flames. 

“That’s where you’re right fucktard. Holy oil ain’t stopping you. This fucker is,” Dean grated as he drew Crowley out from behind the bunker door.

“Ah! So Gadreel is the angel pulling the strings on my mooseketeer. I could sense something was amiss with this particular Winchester,” Crowley said as haughtily as ever. (Dean wondered if everyone could tell something was up with Sam except himself.) “You’re rather in a lucky state I imagine,” Crowley continued taunting.

The angel Gadreel glared at the King of Hell. “What puny power do you think you hold, demon?”

“Oh! It looks like someone hasn’t gotten the memo. I’M THE KING OF HELL YOU IMBECILE! And Luci and I don’t quite get along. So to find out that my favorite Winchester - by a mile mind you - “ Crowley added while turning his head towards Dean, “ - is taken possession by an angel, one that stands alongside Lucifer of all beings, and one that I can expel? You DAMN WELL RIGHT THINK I’M HAPPY WITH THIS ARRANGEMENT!” Crowley’s faced grew almost iridescent red with fury before launching suddenly in on the angel exorcism.

As Sam’s body writhed, Gadreel let out “Stop! Castiel! Dean! Your brother! His…”

“Shut your pie hole and enjoy your fucking Corolla of a vessel that you gotta return to, bitch. Sammy’s bod ain’t for you,” Dean spat back.

Gadreel suddenly went stock still, rigid in pose as light blinded the three around him upon the final words from Crowley. A burst of bright, luminescent smoke curled forcefully out of Sam’s throat and up into the skies. After the intensity dimmed and disappeared, Sam’s body lay inside the ring of fire. Castiel quickly pulled off the red hoodie around his shoulders to snuff out a section of the fire and hopped alongside Sam. He pulled Sam’s gigantic body out of the circle and traded Dean’s brother for the smirking demon. 

“So good to see you again, Cas. Sometimes it’s awkward for former partners to see each other again in the arms of their new companions, but this is such a pleasure,” the demon crooned. Cas tightened his grip on the chains encircling Crowley, but said nothing. “Oh, and I see you’ve gotten a demotion! What a lovely surprise. From once god to now a puny mortal. How’s humanity been treating you?”

Just then, Sam started. “Dean!” His eyes shot open and searched up to his brother holding his head. “What happened? Why are we outside? Why’s CROWLEY outside?”

“Let’s just get you inside, Sammy. Then…” Dean looked up to catch Cas’ gaze. Castiel nodded. “then we’ll tell you everything that happened.” And for once, Dean meant to keep true to his word on this, EVERYTHING would come out.

The quartet headed inside in pairs. Upon getting down to the main level, Dean traded bodies with Cas once again. “Get Sam comfy on the couch, I’ll be back up soon.”

So he did what Dean asked despite Sam’s constant looks of confusion. Dean deposited the King of Hell back in the dungeon with a promise of “next week” and returned to the main level. This was going to be hard. All the truth and nothing but it. The brothers had lied to each other so frequently throughout their lives. They had struggled through so much. Dean hoped that Sam could forgive him one last time - because this was the last, he was sure. Dean steeled himself and pulled a chair up to Sam cushioned in the sofa to begin his tale. It was difficult and Sam interrupted and exclaimed angrily the whole way through, but at the end, Sam’s tired body needed rest and he pushed up from the couch. 

“Dean,” Sam started, eyes watering (which only in turn made Dean’s eyes moisten), “this is a big fucking deal and we need to talk about it more, but right now? I need sleep. Cas, can you help me to my room?” Cas looked quickly at Dean before turning back to Sam.

“Of course,” Cas replied.

Sam didn’t try to initiate any conversation with Castiel, he only leaned onto his tall body and let himself be dragged along after instructing Cas of the directions.

Cas left Sam in his bed and returned to the main living room of the bunker. Dean had already started in on his rather large glass of whiskey.

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”

Really, Dean Winchester? Was this what the night needed? Cas felt like continuing to question the man’s constant return to self deprecation, but when he saw the broken look in Dean’s eyes, he refrained. 

“Yes, he is your brother and he loves you.”

“But this? God,I tricked him, but Cas! I couldn’t fucking lose him! I’ve worked my whole life to keep him safe, make him whole, try to make him happy…”

“And sometimes, granted I’ve only watched from above, parents need to let their children go, Dean. Sam is more than capable to make his own decisions and you need to learn that.”

Dean couldn’t believe it. He was listening to PARENTING advice from the geekiest angel to ever have angeled. “Cas, I’m his BROTHER, not his parent. And I can list off all of the horrible decisions he’s made against my opinion. Remember Ruby? Look how that turned out.”

Castiel knew that Dean probably could not see the difference in his relationship with his brother compared to most siblings on earth whom Cas had observed. John Winchester’s brand of parenting was highly criticized among those who had read the Winchester Gospels, but many had written off the control as representative of God’s will for his creatures. After finally embracing free will alongside the Winchesters all those years ago, Castiel finally started questioning the parallel and its implications. Instead of treading down this territory, Cas took up the topic he knew so well, failure and mistakes.

“And what of yours, Dean, or mine? Do you want to list all of my poor decisions when I wouldn’t listen to reason? How about the most recent one in which all of my brothers and sisters are now trapped here on earth?! It’s part of the process of free will that you and Sam and I hold so dear. Sometimes… you fuck up.” Hearing an f bomb drop from Cas’ lips? That may be Dean’s new favorite thing. He stared at Cas trying to hide a smile that was so not appropriate for the conversation.

A sigh escaped Castiel’s lips before continuing, “But right now I need sleep, Dean, before I even attempt to engage in this conversation fully with you… in fact… where should I sleep?” And in another uncharacteristic move, Cas yawned and stretched his arms above his head. A hint of the tattoo on his side peeked through and Dean’s eyes were once again drawn to it.

“Room next to me,” Dean drawled, his face plastered against his bicep on the couch. 

Dean had expected Cas to leave just then, but instead, he felt the hesitation in the room as Cas waited for far too long. The tired hunter lifted his head to glance up at his best friend.

“I… have trouble with this aspect of humanity. Sleeping is … difficult and vulnerable. I’m worried about being unconscious for so long. And being here with you and Sam and Kevin without any power to watch over you. It’s disconcerting.”

“Ah Cas, you know how to make a girl blush!”

“Dean,” Cas stated sullenly. A moment escaped between the two of them as they shared one of their characteristic staring contests (okay, so it wasn’t a contest, more like… a moment). “Sleeping is difficult as things… come to the surface during them and I don’t know how to forget. I don’t know how to stop seeing things repeat over and over across my mind. It was suggested that I count sheep, but I have yet to come across some in order help with that.”

Dean couldn’t help it with that one and let out a loud laugh. God, Cas was adorably stupid sometimes. (Adorable, like a baby, right? Not like, so cute that he wanted to kiss that sad look off his face.) 

Before Dean could lob something back, however, Cas asked, “Could I use some of the sleeping pills that Sam indicated that you have? Perhaps that would help…”

In a second Dean snapped up. “No! Fuck no, man. No pills.”

“But obviously they’re fit for you, why can’t I try to see if they can help?”

“I said, no. If you’re gonna be human you need to figure this shit out on your own first, natural style.” What Dean didn’t say was that he was actually scared shitless by a former vision of the angel - also powered down and all too happy to follow in Dean’s footsteps of sex, alcohol, and substance abuse. That Cas from 2014 even topped Dean’s own usage. He may have learned it all from that Dean, but he took it up with even more gusto than he had at any point in Dean’s own ridiculous life. The similarities were all too familiar right now. De-angeified Cas who’d already had his first random fuck paired with 2014 looming just a couple of months away. Dean knew that the one thing that couldn’t happen was that.

“Fine,” Cas huffed.

Dean pushed himself up off of the couch to stand next to Cas. “Here, let’s get you to your room.” Cas followed after the hunter through the hallways of the bunker to the one with the bedrooms. “23 is Sammy’s, but you knew that already. Kev’s in 21 and I’m room 22, so you can take 20 right next to me. I don’t know how many of these Men of Letters stayed here at one time, but there’s a shit ton of rooms.” Dean let Cas into room 20 - and apparently it was already ready for occupancy. “K then, you’re all set. Well, this room has been waiting for you for awhile actually.” Dean glanced back at Cas to meet eyes full of gratitude. 

“Sorry it took so long to get here then,” Cas replied with a smile playing at his lips. This day had been full of far too much to think about. Whirling around from sex, to death, to solace, to exorcisms, to deep talks - he couldn’t handle much more for the night. For the past few weeks, everyday was a journey. Even if he wasn’t actively trying to get back to the Winchesters, he was still constantly on guard, running from angels, trying to simply survive. And for the first night in a long time, he would sleep in a safe bed with his closest companions each tucked into their own rooms. Maybe he could begin to think of this as HIS room, not just the one he slept in. He wondered what the other three men’s rooms looked like. If they were as simply furnished as his (but still much better quality than the usual Winchester motel digs), or if they really lived within the walls. Before he would discover all of that, he first needed to sleep.

Rounding out of the doorway and to the small dresser, Dean pulled out a simple white t-shirt, long flannel pants (unquestionable plaid), and a pair of boxer shorts (also plaid). With a short flick of his wrist, he tossed them onto the bed spread. 

“I, uh, didn’t know how prepared you’d be when you got here, so I at least got you something to sleep in. Depending on how tomorrow with Sam starts off, we can go get you your own wardrobe.”

Cas crossed over to the bed to pick up the t-shirt from atop the covers. He was so tired that he could just fall into bed in these clothes like he had seen Dean do so often, but he appreciated the kindness in Dean’s preparation for him, so he attempted to strip off his button up without undoing the buttons. This only served to lift the shirt barely above his head while his arms got caught in the constrictive fabric. Cas grunted in frustration before trying to fix the situation.

Dean had originally been planning on wishing the guy goodnight and heading out, but Cas had just started stripping in front of him - and doing a very poor job of it. Naturally, (as any good friend would do) he went over and put his hands on Cas’ arms as the new human peeked out from inside the white button up. Dean’s fingers then moved to the front of Cas’ shirt and began unbuttoning the shirt as Cas’ head was able to fully re-emerge from the fabric prison. Dean’s eyes, however, followed his fingers as undressed the man. Cas’ memories jumped back suddenly to the last time his shirt was being undressed and he felt the familiar arousal growing in his abdomen. His breath quickened just a bit before realizing that there was no way this could happen again. Dean was his friend and insistently heterosexual, so he pushed those feelings down.

After unbuttoning the last button, Dean let his hand trail to the side of Cas’ torso. Noticing the pink tinge to the sigils, Dean spoke up out of the silence that had descended upon the two men.

“Cas, when’d you get this?”

“Two or three days ago, I believe.”

“And you were living on the streets the whole time? Did you get to clean it?”

“Minimally, but I did the best that I could.”

“Damn, looks like a shit job of it, but I guess it _was_ the best you could do. Sleep now and tomorrow I’ll show you how to take better care of it for the next week so that it heals up well.” Dean made sure not to touch the sensitive skin (even though he really really wanted to for some damn reason). Instead, he brought his arm up and grasped Cas’ shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.

“Thanks again, Cas. Sleep well.”

“You too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically omniscient third person, but I’m focusing on certain characters at certain times instead of giving away everyone’s thoughts. Also, though the writers may have tried early on to play a slight sympathy card for Gadreel, I don’t give a flying fuck about that fucker’s intentions or safety. He killed Kevin and I’ll never forgive him for that. You shall see NO sympathy for Gadreel in this fic!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think of this :)


	2. Don't Let the Demons In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas then leaned over the table and slowly moved his fork over Dean’s pie as Dean tracked the progression of the fork. As he pushed the side of the fork into the apple pie, Dean growled, “What are you doing there, Cas? Didn’t hear me the first three times?” Cas simply smirked (smirked! Dean couldn't believe the audacity!) and raised the fork up… to Dean’s mouth.
> 
> The angel stared into the hunter’s eyes.
> 
> “Yours,” he stated simply as he put the bit of pie into Dean’s mouth.

“Twice I was ready to die and you talked me out of it! Two times, Dean! We could have shut the gates of hell and you talked me out of it. And then after all that suffering? I was ready to go and you fucking tricked me! You kept me around to make yourself feel better instead of respecting my own choices!”

“Yeah Sam, I talked you out of it, meaning you didn’t really want to do it! If I could convince you otherwise, obviously you weren’t so set on it,” Dean lobbed back to his enraged brother.

The sight of fully dressed Sam Winchester and a pyjama and robe clad Dean Winchester on opposite sides of the table yelling at the top of their gruff lungs was what welcomed Cas into the living area of the bunker on his first morning with the brothers. He knew the two well enough through all of the ups and downs of the past five years that he expected a blow out argument, but he really wished it wasn’t right now. While Castiel had been able to actually sleep soundly last night due to his utter exhaustion, he was still just as frustrated to have to wake up as he had every morning of his newly human experience. In fact, waking up in a comfortable bed at peace with his surroundings only made the experience worse since all he wanted was to stay cocooned in the warmth of the bed and comfort of the bunker. Waking up was one of the things he hated most about humanity even though sleep had proved difficult, but inevitably he had to keep doing it.

Kevin shuffled in next to Cas seemingly unperturbed by the shouting match in front of him. He instead took a double take at the dark haired man next to him and said, “Cas? I thought you were leaving last night. What happened?”

“Dean and I expelled the angel Gadreel from Sam’s body last night after he was possessing Sam without full consent,” Cas stated simply to the young prophet.

Kevin’s eyes blew wide. “What?!? When was Sam possessed? That’s what they’re yelling about? They fight all the time so I had no idea it was about something important!”

Cas sighed, “I think this may be a tense few days ahead of us.”

“Psht, you have nooooo idea…” Kevin replied warily.

The two non-familial relations in the bunker turned back to view the argument in front of them. Sam and Dean didn’t care who was watching, obviously too caught up in their blow out. 

“It’s my job to take care of you! If you make a shit decision - like to fucking give up and die - then I need to make sure that shit decision doesn’t happen!” the older Winchester shouted at the younger.

“No Dean! It’s not! It’s called autonomy, and independence, and agency. You don’t have the right to control my body and my life. And don’t fucking kid yourself, Dean, that’s what you were doing. Ezekiel or Gadreel or whatever the fuck his name was maybe the puppeteer, but you were the one ensuring that he kept holding the strings.”

“Me?! Did you forget what we told you last night? When Gadreel showed his true colors I pulled the plug. I helped you. I wouldn’t let him threaten you again.”

“No, Dean. You were fully prepared to send Cas out on his own after everything he’s been through. Cas! Of all people! He’s the one I should be thanking. How he got through your thick skull of yours I’ll never know.”

Dean paused for a moment. “Well… you’ve got one thing right. You owe a shit ton to him… So do I.”

“You can show your thanks by showing me where to get coffee,” Cas interjected dryly while brushing past the brothers towards the kitchen.

Although Sam didn’t seem to lessen in his bristled, upset manner, he did back down. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to soften a bit and perk up at hearing Cas’ voice. If Sam hadn’t been so busy being understandably still upset (seriously, it was a miracle he and Dean didn’t have these crazy arguments more often - Kevin would disagree and assert that they did in FACT happen way more than necessary), he would have seen the corners of his older brother’s mouth perk up at the sleep mussed angel’s entrance.

Dean tossed his younger brother a look before following Cas into the kitchen. He realized that the last time he did so, he was about to toss the guy out to the curb. The fact that he was here this morning, and hopefully many more mornings to come, was an honest delight. Dean sauntered into the kitchen and headed straight for the pantry since Cas had been able to find the coffee maker on his own.

“Mugs are in the cabinet above to the left,” Dean threw over his shoulder. He grabbed all the different cereals that they had, from Sam’s Kashi bullshit to Kev’s Quaker Oat Squares to his own Lucky Charms. He didn’t just hate Sam’s healthy cereal (seriously, it was breakfast, it is _supposed_ to be the least healthy meal of the day) because of his own continual fight against nutrition, he also kinda missed giving up the last of the Lucky Charms to Sam like when they were kids. Sure it sucked to go hungry, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world if it meant that the kid could grow up without his same worries that Dean had been saddled with at that age. In thinking of his now gigantor brother, he wondered if maybe he could have indeed spared a bowl or two for himself given the 4 extra inches the guy had on him now. 

He brought out the boxes to face a disgustingly faced former angel.

“Uh, sorry if it’s not up to snuff?” Dean asked a bit annoyed at the face Cas presented him with.

“I couldn’t find anything to put in it. The shelters and churches where I’ve been staying often had at least sugar to dull the bitterness, and sometimes there were hot chocolate packets to add. Those are by far my preference for drinking this,” Cas told Dean.

“Dude, you don’t have to have coffee if you don’t like it,” Dean laughed back at him.

“I think it is better for everyone if I do in the mornings. Waking up is arguably one of the worst aspects of humanity.”

Dean laughed again at Cas. Being with him this morning, even if he was insisting he was a cranky guy in the morning, was better than fighting with Sam outside this room. His concern for his younger brother always riled him up. While he had realized yesterday that Sam shouldn’t have an unknown angel possessing him, he still felt he was right in his initial decision to save him from Death.

“Alright, no worries there. Caffeine and coffee are hunter staples. If you’re only getting 3-4 hours of sleep a night, you gotta have a pick-me-up in the morning. But uh, creamer is in the fridge over there and sugar is over here in the pantry. I’ll get it for you.” Dean set the boxes of cereal down on the counter and retrieved the sugar. Cas, apparently, wasn’t kidding when he said that he didn’t like the black coffee as Dean watched him take four full spoonfuls of sugar and swirl them into the drink. He then continued his very oddly normal human behavior and leaned his front up against the counter towards Dean. Upon hitting the counter, he winced in pain.

Dean noticed the painful uptick in Cas’ face. “You alright there, Cas?”

“Pressure on my sigils are a bit painful today to be honest.”

Pulling out a chair, Dean motioned to Cas to sit down. “Wait right here, I’ll be back in a sec.” Dean hustled out of the kitchen and went to retrieve the kit he kept on hand for taking care of the anti possession tattoos they put on people. After the Trans had gotten theirs, Dean had put together the kit - a gentle antibacterial soap, downy soft washcloths, and Vitamin A and E skin ointment.

Meanwhile, Cas sat back in the kitchen slowly drinking his sweet coffee. Just drinking the beverage seemed to brighten his mood and no doubt the caffeine helped pick up his senses as well. Now that he was no longer fighting off drowsiness, he let himself indulge in the moment feeling calm and safe for the first time in… well actually since even before he was human. His life was technically more precarious now, but he realized that being removed from the host and returned to his fellow hunters (he thought he could deem himself one now as well), he felt surprisingly at peace. 

Dean returned back to find Cas with his eyes closed, his lips close to the rim of his coffee mug and smiling pleasantly. The sight made him pause in the doorway for a moment. He couldn’t believe that this was sitting here in the kitchen right now. His life was supposed to be shit. He was supposed to lose everything to make sure that Sam had it all. Instead, his best friend is sitting in the kitchen and his brother is healthy, albeit sulking in his room. Even the kid prophet had been warming up more to the brothers and making headway on the tablets.

Dean approached Cas and patted his shoulder, “Hey there Mr. Folgers, lemme take a look at your tattoo.”

Cas glanced up to meet Dean’s gaze with that goddamn soft smile still dancing across his face.

“Go ahead.”

Dean braced the table on the side and lowered his (not as young as he used to be) body so that he was kneeling in front of Cas. It was just better this way - easier than leaning over the guy like a bartender looking for tips. While Dean was playing it cool, Cas felt something tug at his stomach upon watching the man sink to his knees in front of him. He brushed it aside for later and pulled up the edge of his shirt. All of Dean’s “playing it cool” threatened to wash away in that second and he tamped down the breath he almost instinctively sucked in.

The sigils he had been admiring yesterday (at admittedly a bit of an inopportune time), were still sindged in inflamed pink.

“Shit man, living on the streets after getting a tattoo is not the best way to prevent infection. Did you even keep this covered at all?”

“The man said to keep it covered for two hours, so after that I took the bandage off,” Cas simply replied.

“At LEAST two hours, not EXACTLY two hours. Damn, no wonder this isn’t doing too hot,” Dean testily responded. Cas didn’t know why Dean was seemingly annoyed at this, but he was startled out of those thoughts as Dean’s thumb brushed along the edges of the sigils.

“He did a good job though. Looks good. We’ll just take care of it well from here on out.” Dean then leaned back and gathered the one of the washcloths from kit and dipped it in the sudsy bowl next to him. When he leaned back up, he braced his left hand on Cas’ right thigh and leaned between his spread legs to brush the warm cloth over the tattoo.

As Dean continued his ministrations, slowly cleaning the tattoo and gently drying off the water, Cas was beginning to feel things. Tingly things. In his stomach… and down lower. He recognized similar feelings from his time with “April” and realized that this was not the best time to be feeling them. Not at all. Not with Dean and his heterosexuality sitting in front of him. He had always had strong feelings for Dean Winchester as an angel. He knew that he devoted his life to him a long time ago. Thinking of leaving him at that bar with cupid’s bow in his hand, possibly locking himself and the rest of angelkind away in heaven - it ached in a way he had never felt before. But right now, with Dean’s left hand pressing into the fabric of his pyjamas pulled taut against his thigh and Dean’s thumb slightly rubbing absentmindedly further inside his thigh and the fingers of his right hand gently caressing (well, smoothing ointment over) his sensitive tattoo - well it was exciting things that Dean would probably not want to happen with his head far too close to the growing heat in Castiel’s groin. Sex with “April” had been easy and enjoyable, but Cas knew that it wasn’t her gender that attracted him, it was her - well now he realizes quite false - humanity and concern for others. Something that Dean not only is doing now, but seemingly centers his life on - helping others and saving them. So needless to say, with his best friend positioned in such a provocative place and caring for him in such an intimate way, he was getting… turned on (he now knew was the phrase).

“I, uh, think that’s good now. You can, um, stop, Dean. I promise to take better care of it from here on out,” Cas stuttered out with eyes looking a bit frantic from his arousal beginning to show. 

Dean glanced up to Cas’ face with a cocked eyebrow, “Like you did so well last time? I’ll just keep checking on it every day, k?” Dean tightened his grip on Cas’ leg and hoisted himself up. Just then Dean realized Cas was still missing something. “Why didn’t you get the anti-possession symbol like Sam and I?”

Cas now felt a bit more comfortable given the distance between the two men now. “Funds were limited to say the least. They were reluctant to work with what money I had, given that this is such a unique design.”

“Ya, that makes sense, but even if this one is still healing, we need to take you into the tattoo shop in town to get the anti-possession one now given that you’re one of us now.” Upon speaking the last sentence, Dean saw the flicker of something sad behind Cas’ blue eyes. He figured that there was a lot that the new human needed to work through and a sense of loss was probably one of those things. Rather than adding to the bonding moments they were already starting to have too much of and wary of straying into chick flick area, he countered with a few other errands they could do as well. “And hey, we’ll pick up some pie and your very own wardrobe while we’re out,” Dean added while fighting some really weird and totally not his sort of thing feeling like wanting to stroke Cas’ cheek in reassurance. (Where the hell did that come from? SOOOO not an appropriate response to finishing up this conversation.)

Dean then headed out of the kitchen and back to his room while Cas was left to his own devices getting breakfast. Times staying at the shelters had taught him about cereal and cleaning kitchens, so he managed to get by just fine throughout the morning, changing into the clothes that Dean had apparently left out on his bed while he ate breakfast. Cas pulled the grey t-shirt, well worn with age and smelling significantly of the heady scent of Dean. He had to admit that he’d gotten quite used to the smell during his years alongside the man, hoisting his weak body after a fight, standing too close before Dean would insist on “personal space,” and even from their own altercations with each other. The last examples withstanding, the strong musky scent of Dean felt comforting as he was enveloped in the scent. (Cas realized that he might have a hard time giving this back.)

Heading back out into the main research area of the bunker, Cas walked up behind Dean who was standing at the table looking at a manuscript. 

“Hello Dean.”

Dean startled just as he always had before… the fall, and Cas took a small pleasure in eliciting the same reaction.

“Shit Cas! Damn, looks like you’re still gonna be sneaking up on me even without your mojo,” Dean let out with a smile. “That’s good though, will be good on hunts if you aren’t clamoring around like Sam too often does.”

“Sam is an excellent hunter. I doubt he walks about THAT loudly,” Cas retorted in amusement.

“Ha, ya, he is,” Dean laughed with a bit of a sad note in his voice. “Speaking of… we may not be seeing a lot of him over the next bit. He’s barricaded himself back in the library. I tried to see if he wanted to join us to which I received the bitchface of all bitchfaces. Well, it would be funnier if it wasn’t me that put that fucking thing there.”

“He’ll work through it and so will you. But let’s ‘get this show on the road’ so that I can start training to hunt with you soon after these are healed up,” Cas said.

“Dude, you don’t need to do air quotes for ‘get this show on the road.’”

“My apologies.”

With that, the friends headed out of the bunker and climbed into the impala. Dean’s classic rock filled the air between the two men as the Impala roared into town. The sleek car rolled through the short main street before exiting soon after.

“Shit, are there really no tattoo shops in Lebanon?” Dean questioned unbelievably. “Here,” Dean said while handing his phone to Cas, “Look up tattoo shops on google maps.”

Cas took the phone from Dean and stared a bit hesitantly at it before raising it to his face. Scrutinizing it for a moment, Cas then brought it to his mouth. “Uhh, google maps? Tattoos?”

If it weren’t for Dean’s mixtape blaring through the speakers, the silence would be deafening.

A small moment passed.

“Tattoos?” Cas asked hesitantly again.

The only sound then that happened was the lack thereof as Dean pulled over to the side of the road and cut the Impala’s engine. Cas turned towards the hunter who had been driving the car.

“Seriously, Cas?”

“I’ve only ever used a phone to call you or Sam.”

Dean let out a chuckle and shook his head. “This is fucking ridiculous, like I should be surprised though. Gimme the phone.”

Cas handed it back to him. 

“K, Jitterbug phone for you then old man,” Dean said while punching in the search info on the phone. “You know, there’s so much I’m surprised that you don’t get after a millennia of existence.” Upon finding a shop in the nearby town of Salina, Dean started up the engine and pulled off the side of the road.

“To be honest, I question how much I’ve gathered over the years. My last confrontation with Naomi seemed to suggest that my ‘retraining’ that she did to me has been a recurring circumstance,” Cas responded dejectedly.

“Seriously? What prompted that? And what reconditioning? I figured she had been working some kind of brainwashing on you, man. But what happened?” Dean asked in concern. They hadn’t broached the topic fully yet and his curiosity started to get the best of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean hesitated. Sure, talking about feelings and shit wasn’t what he wanted to do any day, but Cas had gone through some serious shit over the past few months. (Wasn’t that ironic, it seemed like that’s all their lives were, serious shit.) But something big had happened in that crypt, maybe bigger than Cas had even realized. Because while the words he said were, “I need you,” they really were a different three big words inside his head. He had tried to communicate that at the time and based off of where they were now, deep in his heart of hearts, he hoped that Cas had figured that coded message out even in his wiped out state of mind at the time.

“That’s cool, man. But if you ever want to, we can talk about it. I’ll listen.” Dean knew that while he was honestly trying to be there for his friend, he also knew that he wanted this conversation to happen for a much bigger reason. For now, he needed to listen to Siri’s voice leading him to the next town with a tattoo shop - almost two hours away. Classic rock blared in the background and Dean was content to glance at Cas every now and again and enjoy watching his gaze out at the flat middle American landscape with an almost peaceful look on his face.

They pulled up to Iron Street Tattoo after far too long for Dean’s taste and got out of the car to a few appreciative glances from passerbys. Dean always loved the amount of appreciation that Baby got in middle America. The few times they’d been in big cities, the Impala was just another car to all the people milling about.

The men walked into the shop and asked for a walk in appointment. The girl at the front was stunning to say the least. Midwestern blonde with a penchant for sleeves and gauges it appeared, she still greeted them with the sweet charm of small town life. 

“This guy here is needs a custom tattoo. Lost a bet last night and needs to face up to reality in the cold hard light of day,” Dean half lied to the girl with a wink. Cas pretended he didn’t see the wink. He knew Dean loved women, especially attractive women (which Cas could agree this one was), but after this morning, he wasn’t feeling very tolerable having to watch this exchange first hand.

The girl turned to Cas, “Are you sure you want this? I’m not gonna have one of the guys tat you unless you actually want it. You don’t have to listen to this douche if you don’t really want it,” she said while side eyeing Dean.

Cas lightened at the girl’s spunky retort (and rejection?) of Dean. “I assure you, I am getting this tattoo of my own volition.”

She laughed and pulled out a book from under the counter. “K, what’s your design and I can set you up with an artist,” she replied to Cas while smiling with a twinkle in her eye. 

Dean, on the other hand, was trying to figure out what went wrong and why this skank was suddenly so into his friend. Pulling down the front of his shirt to show off the tattoo on his chest, he interrupted, “Matching set, you see?”

“Ohhh, I see.”

“Yep, it’s about time,” Dean added while winking at Cas. (What was that? Cas was confused, both the girl AND him got winks within minutes? What purpose was winking now serving Dean?)

The girl took a professional turn and examined the tattoo on Dean’s chest. “Neal can do that sort of tattoo, not too hard.” She turned to Cas, “Have you gotten a tattoo before?”

With his positive response, she ushered them over to Neal and instructed Cas to sit in the chair. Cas was utterly surprised when Dean suddenly started shedding his jacket followed by this shirt. Cas’ new human brain went into overdrive as he watched the hunter pull off his clothes in public. His mind started to imagine Dean slinging the offending clothes over his shoulders and throwing his leg over Cas’ lap to straddle him barechested and lean his head in to…

“Cas!”

“MWHAT?”

“Dude, you were spacing out there. You need to take off your shirt for that tattoo.”

And then it was Dean’s turn for his brain to dive towards the gutter. The awkward fumbling with his button up shirt yesterday was nothing compared to what he was witness to now. Cas, decked out in that grey AC/DC shirt of Dean’s from like 9 years ago, was stripping like a professional or a baywatch lifeguard or… fuck, Dean’s brain was seriously paused as Cas pulled the remaining fabric over his face. It seemed like years before his brain realized that his intense eyelock with the man was matched by those pink, lush lips mouthing his name in a very questioning matter.

“Dean?”

“Ummmmmm, yeah,” was really all the hunter could get out.

“I, uh, could give you two a moment if you want?” another voice chimed in, apparently Neal the tattoo artist.

“No!” They shouted in unison. “It’s okay.” “We’re ready.” “Everything is fine,” stumbled out of Dean and Cas’ mouth over top of each other.

A bit affronted, Neal ventured, “K, then, I need to take a transfer image of your tattoo for him.”

Dean knew the process and let the man get along with it. As he started to tattoo Cas after all of the prep, he watched as the taut skin of his best friend began to be inked with the Winchester symbol. (He couldn’t really say that it was theirs, but Dean had come to think of it as a symbol of family as well.) Dean could see the tension in the (former) angel’s face, but he knew from experience that this wasn’t the toughest pain the guy had faced. However, Cas seemed to be reacting to it more than he expected. Though not in overt pain, he could see Cas winching as Neal set to work.

“Hey, Cas? You okay? You know we’ve faced a lot more than this dude.” Dean turned to Neal, “Army buddies, you know?”

“Oh, gotcha man,” Neal replied while still working on Cas’ chest.

“Dean, I know what you’re saying, but this is… different. I can feel it more. The last one I got too, it’s just… a lot for right now.”

“I know. Just stick in there, it’s not too much, I swear. And then I promise I’m treating you to double bacon cheeseburgers and cherry pie at whatever place we find on our way back home.” With that, Dean clasped his hand on Cas’ shoulder and smiled. Neal scowled at Dean and told him not to touch his client while he was under the gun. Dean removed his hand after a quick apology and his eyes surveyed the newly forming tattoo and down lower to the “older” one. That of course led to also mapping out this hipbones that stuck out so prominently from his fucking jeans and Dean’s mouth was practically watering. (He must smell pie somewhere, ya, that’s it, he’s just thinking about that pie he promised Cas just now.) Forcing his eyes back up, he was met with a leveling side eyed glare from Castiel.

“I’m not a child, you don’t need to bribe me to get through this. I’m not a ‘baby in a trenchcoat’ despite whatever you might think,” Cas basically scoffed back at the hunter.

Hearing a huff of laughter from Neal at the phrase, both men turned to give their own glare at the tattoo artist. His smile quickly disappeared as he got back to his work. Dean and Cas also both fell into silence.

It’s not like Dean ever really thought that Cas was a baby when powered down. When the guy had all but fallen completely when he woke up in that hospital after apparently being brain dead, he’d made his trek out to Dean and Sam and ganked Pestilence himself. There was no questioning the badassness of the (former) angel even when now as human as he’ll ever be. And the human part kept getting to Dean. On the one hand, Cas was still his “normal” self - snarky yet clueless, strong yet affable, and most of all, by Dean’s side. On the other hand, Dean could sense a weariness about him that he’d seldom seen before. That was only coupled with the gnawing worry that he tried to quash - realizing Cas’ increased mortality was another thing straying along the edges of Dean’s inherent need to protect his loved ones. And that’s what it was, wasn’t it, Dean realized. Cas was right there alongside Sammy now, he was someone he needed to protect because he was IMPORTANT to Dean - like really, really important. Someone that he NEEDED by his side for a long ass time.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Cas turning to his direction and placing his hand on Dean’s arm. “I’m not angry with you. I realize I just need to prove myself to you with these… new circumstances,” Cas alluded.

“Hey, it’s like I said the other day, just don’t ever do that again.”

“Alright,” Cas echoed back to Dean, the same response but this time with a smile. Dean hesitantly smiled back. In such a short span of time, Dean had already gotten to see so many of these smiles and hoped that there would be many more. Cas was also thinking the same thing on his end. Dean had always been the brother to try and throw a bit of levity into everything no matter the hunt or issue at hand. But to be the sole cause of his smile instead of some reference to American culture or off handed joke? This warmed his heart in such a way that he had never felt as an angel. Perhaps being human would have its perks as well.

Neal finished up Cas’ tattoo not too long after the two men’s silent soul searching (though neither would know that was what the other was doing). With payment from Dean, the two headed out and on to their next destination, the salvation army down the street to pick up the basics for Cas - t-shirts, flannels, and jeans. The two friends then stopped at a diner to enjoy the two bacon cheeseburgers that Dean had promised. Though Cas had originally retorted testily at Dean when he suggested this, he was VERY happy to be enjoying such a large and delicious meal. 

“MHMMM, these are fantastic. I concur with my previous assessment that these make me very happy,” Cas blathered out between bites.

“You already knew that man, that’s why I suggested it.”

“But it is different. When Famine took hold, Jimmy’s body wanted the burgers which I in turn felt. In reality, I could only taste the molecules, I had no conception of what food tasted like as an actual human. But this? This is fantastic.”

“Then just wait until dessert, I PROMISE you’ll love it,” Dean replied.

“Pie I’m guessing?” Cas responded with a smirk.

“Apple - if they have it - and if not then cherry. Gotta start with the classics,” Dean said back while signaling the waitress over. A bit later after burgers and fries were finished and apple pie set down in front of them, Dean heard the first sound out of Cas’ mouth that he swore he would fight hard to get out of him everyday in the damn future. His mouth was poised around the forkful of pie as he stared at Cas’ wanton devouring of pie and damn near sinful moans.

Then Cas had the audacity to look up at him (glancing up through those lashes of his) and say, “I understand you now, Dean Winchester. Pie.” Cas stated determinately as if all of the answers to life’s questions had been resolutely answered. He then turned his attention fully back onto the plate in front of him.

As if that simple, single word was everything that mattered, Dean closed his mouth around his fork, took the pie off of it, and proceeded to savor the dessert as his mind whirled into action. Cas got him. Angel, human, or whatever he had been in the past, Cas was here with him and _wanted_ to be here with him. He didn’t have to fight to keep him close like he had to with Sam. Cas’ place was right here, eating pie and doing things to Dean’s cock with his merciless moans (though he is pushing that dirty train of thought aside for the moment as he made his revelation), and he was going to stay here. He always came back. Dean didn’t need to fight to keep him around, Cas was here and human and needed Dean right back. And maybe that meant that Dean needed to actually give Sam some space. His constant hovering and concern (and admittedly control) of his brother is what got them into the situation last night. Sam had always wanted independence and with Dean’s last antics, he was beginning to feel more and more like his father with his control over the younger brother. Dean had spent years pulling himself together and out of his father’s image only to fall right back into it. Maybe it was time to let go of that last aspect of his father’s personality.

“Are you going to finish that?” Cas suddenly spoke up and pointed his fork precariously over Dean’s pie. Hey, Dean may silently be realizing his true feelings for the man in front of him, but NO ONE steals a man’s pie.

Dean quickly pulled his plate out of Cas’ reach, “The fuck, man? Don’t steal my pie!”

“Well someone needs to eat it.”

Dean glared over to Cas and delicately took a bite of the pie. “Mine,” he mumbled out with crumbs on his lips contrasting with the slow deliberate movements he had just used to take in the pie. He swallowed and took the next bite just as slowly. “Also mine,” he said again with his mouth full.

Cas then leaned over the table and slowly moved his fork over Dean’s pie as Dean tracked the progression of the fork. As he pushed the side of the fork into the apple pie, Dean growled, “What are you doing there, Cas? Didn’t hear me the first three times?” Cas simply smirked (smirked! Dean couldn't believe the audacity!) and raised the fork up… to Dean’s mouth.

The angel stared into the hunter’s eyes.

“Yours,” he stated simply as he put the bit of pie into Dean’s mouth. Cas hoped that Dean could hear the tone of his voice, trying to get across years of thoughts and feelings into this single word and single action. Maybe he was hoping too much. If Dean got anything out of this, it was probably just that Cas was his loyal companion, not the enormity of what he was really trying to project. And if that’s all he can get out of this, then he’ll be happy. After all, Metatron had wanted him to find a wife and raise a family, to write a story of his own. So maybe he’ll just stick it to him and fully deny that sort of love (unless of course, for some random reason Dean ever forsook his armor of heterosexuality, Cas would happily climb aboard that train… so to speak).

The moment broke suddenly as Dean’s phone blared out its ringtone. Cas pulled the fork back quickly and Dean jumped in his seat to pull his phone out of his pocket. It wasn’t Sam’s ringtone and the number showed that it was...

“Boy! I have a feeling I just interrupted something important, but I need you boys to get over to my place tomorrow. Big things are happening and I have the distinct impression you were behind it.”

“Missouri, always the pleasure to hear your sweet voice,” Dean crooned.

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Winchester. Bring your brother and your friend over for lunch tomorrow, got it?”

“You got it. Anything we should be looking into before then?”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. In the meantime send some sugar over to your brother for me,” Missouri Mosely chimed back.

“Ewww, don’t make me do that Missouri!” Dean whined into the phone like a five year old.

“I’ll know if you don’t mister, and you know that for a fact. I’ll meet you with my rolling pin at the door if I feel anything otherwise.”

“Ugh, okay. You got it. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye honey.” And with that the boys (well now they were back to Team Free Will), had a case.

“Gotta roll, Cas. Looks like we might have a case on our hands and you need a suit just in case we gotta go as feds in the near future.”

“I can go on this case already? I thought that I might require more training before you’d want me there with you,” Cas replied back warily.

“No, you’ve already been in training, remember?” Dean said while placing cash on the table for the meal and motioning for Cas to follow him out to the Impala.

“Yes, and you said that I sucked,” Cas retorted back from behind Dean.

Dean spun around, “uh, well you’re here with us now, for good, so this is just more training. You’ll pick it up,” Dean tried to reassure Cas with a smile.

Cas decided to leave it at that and accept that he was at least being included despite his doubts. The two proceeded to the Sears at the mall to pick up boots, dress shoes, and a suit for Cas. They didn’t take long to try to find something spectacular for Cas, just something that worked. Sam and Dean had had years to figure out the right suit cut and Dean had secretly really enjoyed finding his favorite suit and wearing it out. But for now, Cas would do with a plain grey regular cut. On their way back, Dean tried phoning Sam to update him, but his call only went to voicemail.

After the near two hour drive back, the Impala roared into the garage and they set off to find Sam. Cas and Dean found him hunched over a book across from Kevin and the angel tablet in the library.

“Hey, Sam.” Dean ventured. Sam stayed hunched over his book. “Missouri called me while we were out. Something is up and she needs us to come over tomorrow to talk with her about it. She thinks it is something to do with what went down a few weeks ago.”

Sam then sat up and looked at Dean for the first time since their fight in the morning. “K, we’ll set out just after breakfast. Lawrence is like four hours from here, right?”

“Yep, sounds good.” Dean was happy that they at least got a few sentences between them that weren’t filled with anger, even if they were about a case. He then remembered what he’d been instructed to do. With a grimace set on his face, Dean leaned into Sam’s space and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Ugh, Dean!” Sam shouted. “What was that for?” He asked incredulously as he wiped his forehead with his forearm. Kevin sat across from them wide eyed in disbelief. 

Cas, however, started chuckling next to Dean. With a smile on his face, he asked, “So sugar is a kiss? I suppose both are sweet in a way.” The brothers turned to glare at Cas, but his laughter was infectious. Sam couldn’t help but smile at seeing the relaxed pleasure on his friend’s face. His smile led to a laugh as well and then Kevin was joining in too. Dean looked at all three of them and let out, “God, that was embarrassing!” before storming out. For the first time all day, Sam’s mood lightened and he let the smile linger. He might not have forgiven Dean yet, but he was glad that the four men together could still share a laugh.

The rest of the night was spent in mutual research on possessions. Finding nothing new, Dean went to cook dinner, even making a generous helping of veggies and a side salad for Sam in an effort to continue placating him. After dinner, TFW called it an early night and each went off to get ready for bed. Kevin wouldn’t be joining them the next day, so he stayed awake to continue on. Before going to bed, however, Dean pulled Cas aside in the bathroom and proceeded to check his (now two) tattoos and cared for both of them as he had done just the one in the morning. 

Dean and Cas then headed out of the bathroom and towards their respective rooms. They stopped right outside of Cas’ room as Dean clapped his hand over Cas’ right shoulder, above the new tattoo covering his heart. 

“Might want to sleep on your back tonight to not cause any pain. It’ll be easier,” Dean said looking into his eyes.

“I’ll take your advice then… and, good night.” Cas could get used to this, getting ready to sleep next to Dean every evening, walking together down the hall, and saying their personal goodnights. He thought of this even after he turned into his room following Dean’s “Night, Cas.” The new human laid down in the bed, covering half of his body with the covers on the bed. He stretched his arms above and behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Today had been enjoyable. While the tattooing had hurt more without the adrenaline rush from the first one, sharing these moments with Dean had been more than wonderful. While they were hunters, it felt surprisingly domestic, like the everyday memories that Jimmy Novak had left behind - shopping and dining out and reading amongst friends. 

While Dean had been busy at making dinner, Cas had gotten time alone with Sam and Kevin. The prophet looked a bit frazzled at the angel tablet, obviously working through some obscure cuniform Enochian that Metatron had written and not being able to work it into English. Cas suggested working through a mediary language and Kevin perked at the idea, scrambling around the library beginning to pull the dusty books off of the shelf. Sam had complimented Cas on the idea and he soaked up the praise. Though Dean had started to imply that Cas didn’t still “suck” at being a hunter, Sam obviously and willingly saw his use here at the bunker. However, Cas still knew that he would be one hell of a hunter, even if Dean still had reservations. After Sam’s brief compliment, he had continued on to ask Cas about what he knew about the angels now that they had fallen. Cas knew that they couldn’t fly or access heaven, but that they most likely still had most of their powers based on what he could tell from his multiple encounters at this point. They turned to reapers and Sam relayed that he thought that he and Dean had encountered a rogue before, when they needed the backdoor to Purgatory/Hell. Laying in bed now, Cas tried not to imagine Purgatory again. He and Dean (and the vampire Benny) had overcome it. 

He had so many horrible memories of the place. But then again, some good ones. Ones of Dean’s prayers reaching out to him through the fog and murk and encouraging him onwards. They were so varied, often frustrated - crying into the dark in desperation as to why Cas had disappeared so suddenly. Sometimes they were small reassurances that he would be found and reunited. Others were tales of the creatures Dean had found and slayed. The ones that hurt the most though were the ones where he could feel Dean’s tears in the prayer, pleading with him to let Dean find him. Cas was pretty sure that was one of the reasons Dean had finally found him. His resolve had been weakened by the tears from Dean’s onslaught of prayers the night before and he stayed alongside that river of sorts for too long. Even in the surprisingly warm embrace of Dean’s arms (nothing in Purgatory seemed to have heat or be cold), Castiel could only see the negative outcomes of the situation.

He decided to shed those thoughts to the side, because here and now, he was with Dean - maybe not in the same bed, but hopefully for the rest of his mortal life however long that may be for a hunter. It was with that thought that Cas fell asleep imagining what Dean’s body might feel like alongside his in this bed.

He slept fitfully through the night with the terrors and memories returning once again. Yet he was abruptly awoken after what seemed like far too short of a time to a hand grabbing his shoulder. Reacting on instinct, he grabbed the wrist and twisted it back to incapacitate his attacker.

“Cas! Stop!” Dean’s gravelly voice yelled out.

Cas pulled out of his automatic response and fully woke up. He dropped his hand seeing Dean twisted in front of him.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean said rubbing his shoulder. “At least I know that instincts and self defense technique aren’t something you’re lacking at all.”

“I had to fight and kill several angels before we met up, Dean. I’m quite sure that I still have the ability to fight many types of creatures if I’ve already taken on angels as a human.”

“Guess you’re right there. Well, come get ready and get breakfast. We’re headed out in 30 to go over to Missouri’s place.”

Cas followed Dean to the bathroom where they once again repeated their morning ablutions and Dean cleaned and cared for the tattoos once again. They got along with getting ready, packing clothes and hunter’s tools in case they needed to head out on a hunt right after lunch with Missouri today.

When they traversed through the bunker and out to the Impala, Cas went around to the rear of the car and began to open the door before Sam piped up, “Hey Cas, you can take the front.”

Both Dean and Cas popped their heads above the top of the Impala. “What?” they both asked.

Sam very pointedly didn’t look at his older brother and turned to his friend to reiterate, “You can take the front, I won’t mind stretching out in the back.” Unfortunately, all three men knew what a lie that was. Sure, the Impala was pretty damn big due to its classic status, but not really THAT big, especially for 6 foot 4 inches of the man that was Sam Winchester. Dean’s face hardened as he let out, “At least Cas won’t complain about the music,” and he slammed the door. He'd been trying his hardest to play nice with Sam, but it didn't seem to be reciprocated.

With the angsty fiasco over seating resolved (somewhat, Dean was pretty sure this about about him and Sammy’s fight, not about Cas getting the front or whatever), they set out towards their birth-town.

Sam brewed in his thoughts in the back, letting the two bffs forever do whatever they were going to do in the front. He decided he’d just sit back and let the driving lull his mind away. He was still pissed at Dean and was trying desperately to hang on to that feeling despite the small changes that he already saw in Dean. It was absurd to think that DEAN of all people could repent of his actions in only 24 hours, so he didn’t want to let himself think that Dean was actually making an effort so quickly. He had previously thought that Dean was giving him independence when he let Sam start the trials, but they all saw how that ended up. The Gates of Hell were still open, the King of Hell in their bunker (alive and still a demon), and an angel standoff on their doorstep to gain back possession of his body. But Sam couldn’t deny the awesome feeling that was the four of them all together in the library and laughing over Dean’s “sugar” for Sam on Missouri’s behest. And Dean had shown other promises of change. He’d only called Sam once and didn’t leave a voicemail, opting to talk to him about Missouri at home. He had refrained from making comments about Sam’s helping of vegetables at dinner and had even gotten out a salad to have alongside of them as well. Dean hadn’t brought up the whole “wanting to die” thing again since yesterday morning - not a single word. He hoped it meant that Dean was letting Sam have his choice, but it could just mean that Dean was repressing everything again and it would all explode out his cap in another hurtful decision. Sam stewed for the rest of the car ride, but tried not to let it all show.

Four hours later they pulled up to the quaint house in Lawrence, Kansas that belonged to Missouri Mosely. The three grown men pulled themselves out of the car and trudged up the driveway to the front door. Just before Dean pushed the doorbell, the front door swung wide open.

“Right on time boys!” Missouri sung out sweetly.

“Perks of being a psychic, eh?” Dean replied referring to her perfect timing on opening the door.

“Or it could be due to the roar of that classic car of yours. Could hear it from a mile away!” Missouri chirped back.

“That’s my baby for you,” Dean gloated back at her.

“Now come on inside for a home cooked lunch,” the woman said opening her arms for hug. “And get some sugar from Missouri since I know you were so generous with my last request.”

Dean hugged the kind woman with a familiarity of family even though they hadn’t seen each other in years. Scooting past her in the doorway, he turned around in the foyer while waiting for the two other men, “It’s a lot better than the rolling pin you threatened me with last time!”

But Missouri didn’t acknowledge Dean because she was staring deep into Cas’ eyes with her soft, motherly hands cupping the sides of his face. Cas glanced in confusion and awkward worry over at Dean.

“Castiel,” Missouri softly said. “It’s a mighty fine pleasure to meet you in person. Thank you for fighting alongside my boys for all of us.”

The former angel stared right back into the woman’s eyes. “It’s been my pleasure, I assure you.”  
Missouri tugged Cas into a hug that he awkwardly returned but not without a small smile on his face. She then shooed him indoors and pulled Sam into her arms. Dean laughed inside at how the woman could manhandle his gigantor brother so easily.

After all of the welcoming at the front door, Missouri ushered them into the dining room fitted with a lunchtime feast. Compliments were passed around, notwithstanding a sly comment from Cas about the closeness in quality to Dean’s own cooking. Missouri shot a surprised, yet pleased glance over to the eldest brother. The boys updated her on the Men of Letters bunker and their holed up prophet and the woman chided them on not bringing the kid along with them. It was then that Cas decided to reveal the biggest update, one that he was sure she probably already had figured out.

“And the Gates of Heaven are closed now,” Cas added slowly.

“And we failed to close the Gates of Hell,” Dean also contributed quickly, making sure not to look at Sam.

“Well that explains a lot then. Because there has been a cacophony of voices reaching out from behind the veil - and they’re getting restless. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’m pretty damn glad that you didn’t get the Gates of Hell closed otherwise we would have had even more of a situation on our hands,” Missouri explained. The boys all looked up at her in confusion, not expecting their previous failure to actually have been something good. “That’s why I called you boys out here. I’ve been feeling so many souls lately and I knew they shouldn't be there. That coupled with the fact that the hospital in town is damn near fully haunted. Everybody and anybody believes in ghosts and the other realm now, it seems.”

“But the spell was simply supposed to throw the angels to Earth we thought,” Cas replied.

Missouri cocked her head as the pieces fell together, “So the meteor shower a few weeks ago?”

“My brothers and sisters,” Cas’ low voice returned.

Sam then chimed in, “So if we would have closed the Gates of Hell…”

“Then all of those ugly souls would have been cooped up in the veil as well. And I’m sure as hell that ‘restless’ is an understatement for what those souls would have been doing.”

“It shouldn’t have worked like that! It was supposed to lock away demons forever! Not unleash a crapload of ghosts on Earth. Damn it!” Sam swore loudly completely ignoring the harsh glare of Missouri across the table.

“Maybe we need Kevin to reread the tablets, figure out if there is more to them. We only had Naomi’s word for what would happen at the end of the trials, maybe we missed something or maybe she lied. Hey, I’m not a fan of her, so maybe we shouldn’t have trusted her either,” Dean said back to Sam.

“Well she’s dead. So you don’t have to worry about anything she might say anymore,” Cas supplied almost sarcastically.

“What?”

“Metatron killed her with her own instruments that she used to reprogram all of us to ‘factory settings.’ Crowley did a very similar process to Samandriel and she did the same to me and most likely any of the angels who stepped out of line.”

“So that’s what happened to you? Naomi was brainwashing you with torture instruments all the time?” Dean asked with concern.

“Yes, but to return to the task at hand, Missouri, there are angels wandering the Earth and not all of them are friendly to say the least.”

“Hmmm that explains Diane out in town at least. I could tell that she wasn’t exactly Diane anymore, but I was confused because she was still there. And it wasn’t demonic either…” Missouri trailed off.

“Missouri, you need to stay away from Diane. We’ll take a look at the hospital and then deal with this ‘Diane’ character. But STAY AWAY. Not only are the Angels probably a threat, but reapers are going rogue and taking humans as host. We don't know _what_ Diane really is,” Deam warned seriously. Dean had seen Missouri face down a particularly violent poltergeist in their old home before his mother’s spirit had saved him, but right now? He was genuinely surprised to see the trepidation in her face.

“This is a big deal, isn’t boys?”

“It’s not apocalypse worthy… but we need your safety,” Cas said. Dean and Sam then looked to each other after acknowledging Cas’ concerned look.

“We’ll stay in town and try to look after things for a bit and figure out this Diane chick. For now? Stay here, SAFE, Missouri,” Sam said resolutely.

“Okay then, I’m trusting you all.”

Dean scooted back in his chair, glancing at the other two men. “Okay then, we’re going to get on our way and start on this shit. We’ll keep you updated,” Dean insisted.

The three men then got up from the table and exchanged hugs once again with the woman. While Cas and Dean had quick hugs from her first, Missouri took her time with Sam and held him close. In his ear, Missouri whispered, “Sometimes some wrongs are done in love. And sometimes they’re forgotten in love. And sometimes, that love isn’t necessarily just for you… but for someone else too.” Sam had no idea what to think of the psychic’s words, but chalked it up to her powers and put it in the back of his head for now. Dean may have been cleaning his act up for now, but he wondered how it might come out later. 

After leaving Missouri's place, they each scouted the hospital with a different alias to determine the EMF readings across the building. Needless to say, the readings were off the chart. They needed to figure out how to tackle a haunting this big and if they could even do anything about it. Research was needed and for that they headed to a motel to stay in the city while investigating the current circumstance. To Sam’s surprise (for a number of reasons at this point), Dean got the usual double room despite the three body ratio to two beds. Rather than engaging in the usual dispute in front of the motel keeper, Sam kept his mouth shut. (To be honest, he REALLY wanted to see how this would play out.)

Upon getting into the room, Sam was unfortunately left without any drama to hold his brother to. Once inside, Dean and Cas simply had dropped their bags on the bed closest to the bathroom and sauntered in while Cas was stripping his shirt above his head. Sam had no idea what to think of the proceedings in front of him. There had been so few days between when Dean had willingly tried to kick Cas out of the bunker and now he was apparently sleeping in the same bed as him?! Instead of thinking more in depth about his crazy ass brother and his angel in the too cramped room, alongside their new information about heaven and hell and the veil… He just decided to pass the fuck out in his own bed. Tomorrow was the best day to deal with all of this craziness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! Plot! There’s some plot at the end! But seriously guys, fed suits are horrible. I dated an FBI agent a few years ago and he had such terrible taste in suits. It sucked that he actually looked horrible in suits! So, Sam and Dean looking so fly in their fed get ups would have me questioning them irl haha. Also, please don’t hate on angsty Sam in this chapter. He’s had some fucked up shit happen and we all know that feeling when we want to keep being angry but it’s hard to keep it up anymore so you’re kinda a dick to everyone. I promise good things are ahead! Anyways, tell me what you think about everything so far! If you have ideas, I’d love to hear them too :) Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Also: Misha's [AC/DC shirt](https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ7T3BUkjMobO_mye9VAYUY8cKRgZzwnmDQn1bfRvYE8UFSEmRYLEZQcHk) for your visual ;)


	3. Facing Ghosts Old and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “New human? I thought you were an angel.”
> 
> Dean and Cas looked back at the them just as the waitress came up between Dean and Sam and said, “Honey, you don’t use a tired old pick up line like that on a guy when his boyfriend is sitting right next to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter will be a lot more plot heavy, but don’t worry, UST and shipping shenanigans and soul searching will still be in there! Plus, we’ll get to run into some old “friends” again ;) Oh, and we're going from M to E in this chapter too!

"Hey, Cas," Dean tentatively whispered into the early morning light. He wanted to tread lightly in waking the sleepy headed man next to him to avoid the near shoulder and wrist sprain he'd almost gotten the morning before.

Sam kept sleeping on in the bed next to them.

Dean shoved Cas lightly on the shoulder and called out his name again. "Cas, Wake up sleepyhead. We gotta shower before Sam gets up and takes all the hot water to wash his luscious locks." (God, why did he always insinuate showering together? He meant alone, damn it!)

"Go away, Dean. Let me sleep."

"If I make you some shitty ass motel coffee, will you get up?"

"No... ughhhhhh, yes I will," Cas groaned as he turned fully away from Dean and throwing his arm over his eyes. "Whhhyyyy?" He seemingly asked/whined to nowhere in particular.

"Oh my god you're ridiculous," Dean laughed at him as he swung his feet out of bed and ambled towards the cheap coffee maker in the room. He started it up and headed to the shower. Making quick work of cleaning up in there, he headed back out about 10 minutes later. The coffee was done but Cas was still in bed, seemingly as dead to the world as Sam in the next bed over.

"Come on, Cas. Your turn. You promised that you'd get out of bed if I made coffee. It's done now. Here, I'll even put all the sugar that we have into a cup for you."

Cas only groaned for a second, but then started to sit up. Rubbing his eyes, he started to get out of bed and head over towards where Dean was pouring his coffee for him. Though Cas didn't think anything was particularly up (little did he know), Dean was wide eyed as Cas shufffled closer and closer and closer... with definite morning wood. Those pyjama pants that Dean had given him didn't hide anything at the moment. Cas simply walked up to Dean, grabbed the cup, and turned tail into the bathroom.

And holy fuck, Dean was sporting a semi now. What was going on with him? He didn't say anything snarky to Cas but instead could barely tear his eyes away from his hard on. And the more he focused on trying to figure out why he was getting turned on, the harder he got. What was up with him? Sure, he might have been positively appraising Cas' body over the past couple of days and maybe let his mind wander a bit into unknown territory back at the tattoo shop, but this? Getting a hard on for another man? He wasn't gay!

Dean sat down next to the table and hung his head in his hands. These past few days were certainly dragging him through the ringer. Everything was out of place and he needed to find his bearings. He DEFINITELY didn't need to think about a naked Cas in the bathroom as he heard the shower turn on. What he _did_ need was to get out of this claustrophobic room and get some air.

While Dean went out to take a walk around the parking lot, Cas was back in the bathroom inhaling his coffee before toeing out of his clothes. Pulling down his trousers, he felt the catch on his dick which, though lagging a bit from earlier, was still hard. He paused and then palmed it once skin on skin. This wasn’t his first morning erection. He'd gotten erect during the night while he was on the streets and had figured out what to do. It was only biological after all.

But now? He had a sexual history to fall back on in taking care of this morning problem. Castiel stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash over him. He found the soap in the shower to lather his hands with before he ventured down. All of the times before that he had masturbated, he had focused on the simple sensation of his hand gripping his hot shaft. He knew that humans often fantasized about their past experiences, but with "April" such a sore spot in his mind, he didn't really want to imagine a woman in the area any time soon.

Instead, he stared at his hands and focused on their touch on his own skin. Skirting over the sigils above his hipbone, he suddenly couldn't help but think of the image of Dean caressing the same spot while caring for him. Though his groin ached for his hands to lower themselves to satisfy the aching need, his fantasy kept the sudsy fingers playing along the tattoo and his hipbones. Cas imagined rougher hands than his gripping his sides and rubbing the valleys just beneath his hipbones and trailing down to his erect penis.

Cas' head tipped back as his fantasy took over and he no longer needed to watch his own actions. His long digits slipped lower and tangled in his own curly hair at the base of his cock. He was so close, but he liked the edge, imagining if it wasn't himself teasing, but instead a green eyed man salivating at the sight. Dean _would_ tease him like this, wouldn't he? Cas prided himself on his literal angelic patience in the past, but right now he gave into his base desires and wrapped his hand around his length. It felt so good, so much better than in the past, because in his mind right now, his best friend was facing him and pleasuring him to his fullest.

Cas then snapped his head forward. Maybe this was wrong. Not the masturbation part, that was part of God's design of humanity, but the part where he imagined his heterosexual friend in a very explicitly homoerotic situation. But remember that lack of angelic patience from before? It turned out that Castiel had apparently lost a bit of his other worldly concern for propriety as well because a second after he thought of perhaps stopping his thoughts, his hand jerked and it just felt too good. He sped up his pace while pretending that it was Dean's finger that caught on his balls and dragged them forward on a particularly deep thrust into his hand. 

He was overwhelmed. The sensations were so much more intense and he threw his left hand onto the shower wall to brace himself as his imagination saw Dean leaning in to mouth along his jaw. He let out a groan and couldn't care who heard. Imaginary Dean continued trailing his lips down Cas' chest and towards the tattoo over his heart. Cas' (Imaginary Dean's) hand sped up to a brutal pace and twisted around the head at the top of each pull. The pressure was rising and Cas knew that meant his release was imminent. Imaginary Dean knew this too and abruptly pulled his (Cas') hand off his dick to tease the soaking wet man again. But Cas couldn't help it and in his mind yanked imaginary Dean up lips and kissed him full force as he grabbed his dick and thrust into the enclosed space of his fist and he was done, coming full force with a grunt.

Leaning on his left arm and panting quickly and shallowly, Cas opened his eyes again. His orgasm was much more than enjoyable and while his body felt sated, his mind was reeling. He wanted to kiss Dean. He may have felt devoted to the man in the past, but now he realized it was more than that. He wanted Dean in his hands and he couldn't have anyone else. This fantasy had awoken something in him deep and primal and he wanted it for real. If this could be what humanity could feel, he wanted every ounce of it.

But one thing stood in his way, Dean's insistence on holding to the constructed notion that strong men should assert their dominance by bedding women and not other men. Cas scoffed at the idea as he washed his dark mess of hair. David and Jonathan had shared their own profound bond back in the day. Achilles and Patroclus stood as foremost leaders of the Greeks and loved each other carnally and intimately within their tent. Castiel knew that this was a different age of humanity and more than that, he would also respect his friend's wishes above his own.

With a sigh, he resigned himself to pining friendship and turned off the water. At least he knew that Dean wanted Cas alongside him in friendship and in valor and his mood lightened up a bit at remembering that. Castiel had a home with his friends - _multiple_ friends, Dean and Sam and hopefully Kevin as well - and there was much to be thankful in that. 

While Cas finished up his shower and drying off, Dean rounded the last corner of the parking lot and headed back into the room. He knew he couldn't be gay, he'd gone through his list of favorite things about women on his first lap around the pavement and realized that, yep, he still loved breasts and clits and curves. He figured that with all of the close quarters with his closest friend and his _intense_ feelings for the guy were influencing his behavior. He just needed to treat everything like normal and it would all balance out eventually.

Dean headed back into the room and found Cas finished from his shower in the bathroom with suit pants on (thankfully). 

"Hey Cas, let's check those tats out one last time, sound good?"

Cas shifted suspiciously. "I think they're healed up well now actually."

"Ya? Well I'll be the judge of that, unless you wanted the pink hue to accompany the design permanently?"

"Very well then."

Dean pulled the ointment out of his go bag and kneeled down to check the sigils first (he always gravitated towards those). While inspecting Cas, he heard Sam's alarm going off in the other room.

With an alarm beeping loudly near his ear, Sam blinked his eyes open, blurrily viewing the motel room around him. As he sat up in bed and turned the alarm off, he turned to look at the bed next to him, expecting to see an awkward display of “desperately trying not to touch to still look like I’m straight” shenanigans that his brother most likely would be doing. Instead, the bed was empty and the covers strewn about. He could hear Dean’s voice murmuring and saw the bathroom door open with the light on. Getting out of bed slowly, he peered around the edge of the door from his vantage point and tried everything he could to keep in the yelp that wanted to come out of his throat. Because the sight he immediately took in was a barechested Castiel leaving his back against the bathroom counter while Dean was pretty much fully on his knees in front of the man. He’d had the unfortunate pleasure of walking in on almost this same scene before, except that Dean was the one standing with petite blonde woman on her knees. Ugh, he wanted to cover his ears and pretend that this wasn’t happening… but he didn’t need to cover his ears, because there wasn’t any sound really. No moans, no dirty talk… what?

He chanced another risk at blindness by peeking at the sight again. This time, he registered that Cas’ pants were very much still on and that instead of ecstatic pleasure on his face, Cas was simply smiling down at Dean in… adoration? Oddly, Sam felt as if this was even worse for him to watch because they weren’t being physically intimate in a sense, but instead, it seemed like so much more. Dean turned his head up to Cas with another small smile to match his friend’s and was hoisted up off of the ground to stand level with the dark haired man. Sam watched as Dean patted Cas’ shoulder and heard, “I think that’s the last time we need to do all of that. The sigils are healed up well now. Just needed a little TLC from yours truly.”

Rather than continue on peeping tom the two, Sam laid back down on the bed. To be honest, he’d always wondered if there was something up between Dean and Cas. He’d been told point blank that they “had a more profound bond” by Cas, but what exactly that was, Sam didn’t know. Cas had brought him back from Hell as well, but something was decidedly different between the two of them. And right now? This was a whole new level of profound that he was seeing. It was no longer their bond keeping them side by side as fighters. Instead, he saw them caring for the other - especially Dean caring for Cas. Caring for others was practically Dean’s modus operandi, so Sam wasn’t surprised with that per se. It was more that he could tell that it was on some sort of deeper level. For all of Dean’s heavy handed concern over him, Dean always put up a front of strength and masculinity. But with Cas as a human alongside them now, Sam could see a whole side of Dean showing itself in soft touches and softer looks. And Cas seemed to enjoy every bit of it. Whereas Sam had to struggle against the firm grip that Dean held on to his brother, Cas seemed to be grasping right back towards Dean.

Then it started to occur to Sam, Dean hadn’t just been pulling back from him after their fight because he was repressing things. Dean was pulling back because he was learning to take care of someone else important to him. Maybe he needed to give Dean a bit more credit…

Back in the bathroom, Cas and Dean slipped around each other while each getting ready for the day, moving almost as effortlessly as they did in battle, but with the practiced domestic efficiency of their past few days spent together. Dean had even begun to stop doubting every good moment that they shared. He honestly couldn’t believe the ease of companionship that he and Cas had developed in the few short days. It distracted him from Sam’s prolonged sour mood, but even Sam had lightened up at Cas’ conversation and emerging humor.

Last night, they had taken Cas out to a local pizza joint to have him try pizza for the first time. They ordered three different pizzas just so that he could try out what he would like best. Dean ordered the meat lovers pizza first, Sam ordered the Hawaiian, and Cas interrupted their ordering with a request of his own: anchovies and mushrooms. Dean groaned out loud at hearing the ridiculous order. 

It turns out that although Cas thought he might enjoy fish, he did NOT like it on a pizza though the mushrooms were a nice edition to the overall flavor. Sam and Dean had laughed together at the face that he made on tasting his choice and Dean wordlessly shoved over a plate of _both_ his and Sam's pizzas. The three of them didn't talk about the case while out in public, the pizza parlor was too quiet of a locale to engage in talking about the Supernatural. Instead, they talked about things that Cas needed to try - everything from food, to sports, to (Dean's favorite) TV shows. "Porn isn't all there is on TV, Cas," Dean reprimanded in jest. 

Dean thought back on how when they settled into their rooms they had both wordlessly gravitated to the same bed... and he hadn't freaked out about it like he had about the incident this morning. Instead, they simply went about their same routine from the past two nights and climbed into the same bed. He didn't need to have the "no cuddling" talk or reinforce boundaries. Cas didn't get too far into his personal space and Dean was almost dejected that the familiar (yet creepy... right?) aspect of Cas' angeldom was gone. The guy was learning how to be human so he shouldn't complain right? Dean had been trying to get the guy to figure this shit out for years now, so why was he bummed that Cas was learning it so quickly now?

But, it was time to draw out of his head and finish getting ready to let Sam into the bathroom. Dean gathered his and Cas' bathroom stuff up and headed out of the door into the main area. 

"All yours, Sammy."

Sam brushed past him and into the room to start his routine. Though Dean liked to tease him for primping, he was actually relatively efficient despite having to spend extra time blowdrying his hair. In fact, lately, their ready times had begun to take closer to the same amount of time as Dean had gotten to styling his hair in more current ways than the military buzz cut he sported when Dad was still around.

The three men finally were all ready and headed out to breakfast at the diner down the street. Dean never seemed to opt for anything but a full breakfast while they were out on cases and Sam figured that Cas would LOVE the continuous refills of coffee they provided.

The three men took their places in the diner booth, Dean next to Cas as usual and Sam across from them. Sam decided to suggest food for Cas this morning.

"You have to try pancakes, man. Get fruit on top too." Sam was a bit surprised when he heard a grunt of assent from Dean across the table. To be honest, he'd been expecting him to shove meat down his throat (Oh god, though that's what he thought Dean had been doing this morning, that's NOT what he meant now!)

"Ya Cas, it's like breakfast pie when you get it topped with berries of all sorts and drench it in syrup and top it with whip cream. God, yes that is what I'm ordering for you.You can have some of my bacon and sausage just to try it too," Dean groaned himself in anticipation.

After his slip up in his mind, Sam decided to play a bit with his older brother. "Wow, Dean, I'm surprised. I never expected you to be shoving your meat down Cas' throat. I mean, you've never done that before..."

Dean coughed up his coffee across the table and stared with all of his older brotherly might at the younger across the table. Cas, meanwhile, looked at Sam in confusion.

"Dean's been very committed to helping me enjoy these new experiences as a human. I don't doubt that he would share as much as that with me."

Dean coughed up even more coffee and let out a guttural warning of "Sammyyyyyy..."

"Alright, alright, my bad."

Breakfast continued on normally after that, but Cas seemed to not be drinking that much coffee. When the waitress came by to check on them, Dean did something he never had before, he ordered one of their never-ending hot chocolates. Sam looked on in surprise, but figured he'd see what was up.

When the drink came out, Dean asked for more coffee and then simply took Cas' coffee cup and filled the remainder of the cup with hot chocolate, inadvertently spilling some hot chocolate on the table in the process.

"Shit! Sorry about that Cas, but try the coffee now."

Cas looked back at Dean, smiled, and lifted the cup to his mouth to take a sip. He hummed in delight as he tasted a similar hot chocolate mixed with coffee taste he had enjoyed from the church shelters. Dean smiled a gummy smile back at him and Sam felt like literally gagging at the sweet scene in front of him. Oh, these two definitely had it bad and he had no idea if either of them even knew it.

The waitress returned with the coffee and Dean offered the half filled hot chocolate cup for her to top off. 

"Hey, I figured I could try this out if it seemed like such a great idea to you." Dean said before taking a sip. "Oh my god! No! This was a horrible idea! This isn't coffee!" Dean was practically shouting while grimacing with the taste.

"More for me then, I guess," Cas' gravelly voice snarkily commented while pulling the other cup towards him.

Dean motioned for the waitress to get more coffee. "Does an insane sweet tooth run in the angel family or something? God, I swear that Gabriel would get a toothache from that shit."

"Not that I know of, but like I said, more for me," Cas simply smiled back.

Sam was trying his damnedest not to snigger at the two idiots in front of him. It was like watching middle schoolers flirt with each other. He couldn't help it now, his little-brother-ness was going to show through again.

"Hey Cas, you've only tried bacon so far, I'm pretty sure that you'll really enjoy the taste of Dean's sausage too." Sam barely got this out before he realized that _Cas_ was blushing! He totally understood Sam's innuendo and now Dean was glaring daggers at him. Sam swore that Dean could kill a basalisk with that stare. He ducked his head to laugh but was broken out of his hilarity by a piece of sausage hitting him on the forehead.

"Hey!"

"Shut it, Sammy."

Sam laughed and raised his hands up, "Truce?"

"Truce."

"Truce," a third voice said.

Sam and Dean turned to Cas, surprised at the addition. They then all laughed together and Dean could swear that all of the baggage they'd been carrying or dealing with over the past few days almost seemed magically lifted. They got their check from the waitress and Dean scribbled something on the receipt while leaving a wad of cash on the table. Cas figured he had once again lost out to another woman, but when sliding out of the booth, he noticed it wasn't Dean's "pick up" cell phone number written on the receipt, but instead a note of apology at the mess the two "man children" had caused. Cas smiled and joined the brothers at the car.

During the drive to the hospital, they figured out their game plan as a follow up to their initial investigation from the day before. Going in as investigators for possible neglectful behavior leading to an increase in accidents, they'd still be government officials but in a different capacity than normal.

They split up once inside the hospital and displayed their credentials, each taking a separate floor and department. 

Cas was working EMF detail to survey the readings across the hospital while Sam and Dean interviewed staff members, nurses, techs, and doctors. Cas had only been stopped once to ask what he was doing, to which he showed his (fake) credentials and said that he was taking precise readings of air quality in the hospital. Of course, the nurse that had stopped him believed it right away and even led him to some spots around the floor that she noticed had "just felt off." As he predicted, the EMF rating was off the chart. Following a trail into the room, he realized that he was in the geriatrics section as he came to the foot of the bed of a very elderly man sleeping while hooked up to a variety of machines. 

Stepping to the side of the bed, Castiel couldn't help but feel compassion for the soul wrestling inside the withering body. He should have peace at the end of his life, not get stuck behind the veil to suffer without his slice of heaven. Suddenly, the room dropped in temperature and the EMF reader started beeping frantically. Castiel searched around for anything to use in protection. Seeing a tray of food, he grabbed the salt container from the edge of the tray and pulled off the bottom.

The florescent lights flickered and a transparent image of an elderly woman in a hospital gown flashed into view. Before Cas could throw salt at her, he heard her pleading.

"Please! Help! Can you help him?"

Cas was taken aback. The woman was the one stuck behind the veil and she was asking for help for who?

He looked her in the eye, "Help who?"

The woman flashed out of sight and back into sight a bit more solidly. "You can hear me?" her feeble voice asked. 

"Yes, I can."

"Then help him!" she pointed at the bed filled with the elderly man.

"There once was a time I could help, but not any longer. I'm not a doctor, I'm sorry," Cas replied regretfully. He tried hard to convey his sympathy.

"No, he needs other help. I died here a couple of weeks ago and since then I've been stuck. He took the place after me. His family is horrible. They're after his inheritance and are planning to instigate his death by giving him the wrong medication when he is released." The woman flickered again in apparent emotion showing through, affecting her ability to materialize. "Don't let him get stuck watching his children's vile actions. Don't let him die at home to stay forever in torment watching his loved ones turn on him and each other." She disappeared for another moment before reappearing. "Please."

"I'll see what I can do for him. But also know that we're trying to help you. We're trying to figure out how to help you move on."

"Is that possible? I was beginning to doubt the reapers."

"There are reapers here?" Cas tensed up immediately given his last encounter resulted in his death.

"One in here with us now in fact. She asks if you're a hunter. Why would a hunter be in a hospital?"

Cas glanced around and said to the room, "I am a hunter, now, at least. Tell me your allegiance." Cas glanced back to the specter of the old woman.

"She says that she is and always will be loyal to Death. She also wants to know if you can ask someone named Dean to come here, she saw him in another ward of the hospital." The woman was sounding weaker and weaker.

His protective instincts kicked into place. "No! You won't have him! Not while I'm here!" Cas pulled his angel sword from inside his coat. The ghost of the woman stepped back in fear. 

"No, I don't want to die again!"

"This isn't for you. It's for any reaper that dares cross my path for Dean Winchester."

The woman then seemed to calm. "I'm tired, I can't last much longer. But she assures you that he will be safe, he's her old friend... and she's glad he has someone to look out for him. Can I go now?"

"Thank you," Cas replied while taking a step towards her. "I'll try to help him, I pro-" but the woman disappeared and the temperature lifted in the room.

Cas glanced warily around the room, still tenuous about the reaper apparently in the same space as him. He needed to find Dean and Sam to bring them over to this room. Cas glanced at the door, Room 3102. He sent a text to Dean and Sam to meet him here. In the meantime, he needed to allay his concerns about the elderly male patient to the hospital staff to see what could be done. He may not be able to heal the man, but maybe he can help make the end of his life better in another way.

Stepping out of the quiet room and back into the hallway, Cas made his way over to the nurses’ station a few doors down. There were a number of nurses sitting at various points within the circle of desklike counters. Cas approached the nearest nurse.

“Excuse me, I need to speak with someone about the patient in 3102. I have some concerns about his care after being in his room performing tests,” Cas said as authoritatively as possible while holding up the EMF meter.

“Oh! Would you like me to page the other two investigators? I think I’ll have to have to also call health and safety to meet you up here for your concerns.”

“No, that’s fine, I’ve already alerted the other investigators and they should be meeting me here. I was actually concerned about something else. The, uh, patient in 3102 woke up while I was in there. He’s concerned that his family may be harboring ill intent but he’s unsure of what to do in his condition.”

“Ugh, Mr. Gavelston’s family is the worst. Pretentious and uppity. I swear that they don’t give a shit about him. Oops, sorry, excuse my language. I just can’t stand when I see such horrible family like his. Ms. Marceline, rest in peace, who was in that same room before had such a caring family. It was a shame to lose her, but everyone has their time.” The woman stopped her small speech and shook her head. “It’s one of the hardest parts about working geriatrics, you lose so many patients.”

Cas smiled at the woman in front of him. This was what he loved about humanity, their depth of love and care for each other. That no matter the darkness of some like the Gavelstons, that people like this (like Dean) shined through in kindness. Of course, all of this philosophizing happened in the matter of a second, and the nurse (whom Castiel was internally waxing poetically over) shifted her gaze over his shoulder.

“There they are. I’ll get to calling the health and safety representative.”

Cas turned around to face… not the Winchesters, but instead two smaller men in absurdly mismatching suits. Even his own basic suit purchased two days before looked far smarter than the get up of the two staring at him. Cas could swear that he recognized them from somewhere.

The shorter brunette man put his hand on the spectacled man’s arm. “Is that who I think it is?”

It seemed that Cas was in a stare down with the two in front of him. He tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow while walking towards them. They seemed to be walking backwards away from him now, eyes almost wide with fear. The two men suddenly turned around and almost sprinted away. Now _that_ was suspicious and Cas elected to follow them to find out what they were doing here.

The two men rounded the corner after continually turning their heads around to check on Castiel behind them. Cas followed at a faster pace and was about to call out to them when he heard a deep voice from around the corner and probably a bit down the hallway.

“Hey man, sorry about that. Are you off… oh god, you gotta be freaking kidding me!” said the voice that was without a doubt that of Dean.

With Ed Zeddmore braced in his arms and Sam with a hand on Harry Spangler, Dean gruffly addressed the Ghostfacers duo. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

Harry piped up, “There’s no time to explain! There’s a freaking angel in here!” With the words barely out of the guy’s mouth, Sam and Dean perked up and shoved the two younger men behind them and shot a knowing glance at each other. Dean stuck his hand inside his coat and fingered the angel blade inside the coat jacket. Maybe that Diane chick that Missouri mentioned was here at the hospital to start some trouble.

When Cas rounded the corner, Ed shouted and pointed between the brothers, “There he is, we gotta get out of here!”

Dean looked at Cas incredulously, “Cas, how the hell do you know these bozos?”

“I believe they were the two I was sent to announce that they were to be witnesses to the apocalypse.”

Dean and Sam each cocked a disbelieving eyebrow and slowly turned around to face Ed and Harry who were frantically glancing between the approaching Cas and the Winchester brothers.

Sam spoke up next, “Seriously? The _’Ghostfacers’_? I _really_ don’t understand God’s choices sometimes.”

By that time Cas had fully reached the Winchesters and faced the additional two men behind them. “What are you doing here? Why are you impersonating the Winchesters? - Poorly, I might add.”

Dean barked out a laugh and grabbed Cas’ arm. “No Cas, you see, Ed and Harry here are ‘paranormal investigators,’” Dean sarcastically explained. The two younger men shrank back a bit at the closeness of Castiel to them.

“Is that not what we’re also currently doing at the time?”

Even Sam looked scandalized at Cas’ remark. “No! We’re hunters Cas! Not a couple of kids looking for fame from ‘investigating’ perfectly good people’s weird ass deaths.”

Surprisingly, Ed piped up, “Hey! We’ve actually salted and burned a few ghosts now and kept them from harming other people. Get off your freaking high horse.”

“Do you still post your videos about your escapades online?” Dean asked with a sneer.

“Yeah, and with our fanbase growing, we’re able to make money off of ad revenue to travel places to help people - instead of living off credit card fraud,” Harry retorted in defense of his friend with a snide insinuation also in place.

Dean was just about to throttle one or both of the kids before Cas interrupted. “Regardless of the method of procuring money, there’s something more important going on here.”

Before Cas could continue, Harry interjected, “This place is haunted! Like level 11 above and beyond haunted!”

“Thank you for that riveting information, why else do you think the three of us were here?” Sam drawled with a bitchface equaling his sarcastic voice.

“The haunting is not the problem right now,” Cas then continued. “I spoke with one of the deceased stuck behind the veil. There are reapers here, Dean, and they’ve been talking with the trapped souls.”

“Why are the souls trapped?” one of the ghostfacers tried to ask. But they were drowned out by Dean.

“Reapers? Fuck, Cas, we gotta get you outta here, pronto.”

“Dude, we told you, he’s an angel. He can just teleport anywhere.” Ed said while rolling his eyes. Dean couldn’t believe this. This little douchenozzle was trying to explain to HIM what angels were? In a fit of frustrated annoyance, Dean rounded on the guy and all but had to hold himself back from lifting him from the ground by his throat.

“Reapers are bad fucking news. We deal with _them_ first and then we figure out how you fit into all of this.”

“Dean! Stop!” Cas commanded. “I’m pretty new at this, but I’m quite certain that assaulting a man in a hospital is not a way to keep yourself under cover. Besides, the reaper said it was always loyal to Death. And it asked to speak with you specifically. She said she was an old friend.”

Dean then backed down. He looked to Sam and the brothers spoke simultaneously, “Tessa.”

“Which room?”

The (now) five of them returned to room 3102, but there were only the signs of a past haunting, nothing alerting them to a current presence of a spirit or reaper. 

“Ms. Marceline must have used up the rest of her strength while talking to me. I doubt that she will be able to manifest for a while.”

“Oh great spirit… uh… or reaper…” Harry started hesitatingly into the room.

“Cut it, asswipe. We gotta wait a while and maybe touch base with someone else to figure this shit out,” Dean groused.

“Um, Tessa, we’ll be back… if you’re here…” Sam said, sounding almost as shaky as the Ghostfacer before him. 

Dean looked around the room before glancing to Cas. He seemed a bit wary, but that was to be expected, a reaper had killed him only a few days prior and he didn’t really know Tessa. Little did Dean know that Cas really couldn’t care about that, he was simply worried as to why a reaper would ask for his closest friend. Given that reapers typically took souls to the beyond, and Hell was the only open place at the moment, Cas didn’t want to take any chances.

The five of them stepped out of the room and Sam and Dean practically (though discreetly) hauled Ed and Harry along with them. Once in an empty room, Dean and Sam simultaneously rounded on them.

“Alright, the tough shit is out of the way for the moment. What the fuck are you two doing here?”

“We came because it has had the most hauntings per capita in a LONG ASS time!” Ed shouted. “We couldn’t turn this down after we found out about it! So many ghosts all confined in one place?!”

“This place NEEDS our help,” Harry tried to add, but Dean had nothing of it.

“This placed NEEDS PROFESSIONAL help, not some amateurs looking to make a buck. We need to contact the hunter network.”

“Hey, we’re at a standstill right now, let’s meet together somewhere else. Dean, how about that diner about a mile outside of you-know-who’s place.” Sam didn’t say ‘Missouri’ because he didn’t want to give the Ghostfacers another name to latch onto and bother with their antics. Who knows what they’d put Missouri through if they found out about a real psychic. Sam was pretty sure she’d never forgive them for that.

“VOLDEMORT?!” Ed and Harry exclaimed together.

“Oh MY FUCKING GOD, Sam! Seriously? That’s your choice of phrasing with these two?!” Dean turned to the Ghostfacers, “Voldemort is NOT real. While I wouldn’t mind some Hermione or even some Tolkien Elves being real, this isn’t fantasy. Get your heads out of the books and into real life. We’re going to meet you at the Haskell Diner down the road. We don’t see you there? We really live up to our name as ‘hunters,’ get it?”

With a joint assurance of “Got it” from the Ghostfacers, they went their separate ways to head to the diner. After Cas’ encounter with Tessa (at least that was their best guess) and the ghost, the boys felt a bit uneasy walking through the halls. Not scared, they’d faced much worse evil before, but instead felt almost surrounded by the supernatural within the stark, sterile walls of the hospital.

After making their way to the diner, Team Free Will found the Ghostfacers sitting nervously on one side of a booth. Dean and Cas slid effortlessly into their usual side which left Sam with… no where to sit. Glancing around Sam pulled a metal chair noisily across the floor to sit at the side of the table, his long legs stretching out under the table.

“Hey, watch it Sasquatch. No footsies with the whole table,” Dean grumbled. He then turned back to Ed and Harry in front of him. “Okay, so you’re here investigating the haunting of the century,” Dean said with derision in his voice. “What were you planning to do about it?”

“First, we want to know why you’re cavorting with an angel. One with ill intentions to all that is holy and good in this world!” Ed accused while staring down Castiel.

Dean turned to Cas in confusion and could see the mixture of hurt and dejection in his face. He didn’t deserve it. They’d all fucked up in the past and it was time to move past it. Wasn’t that what Cas was saying just the other night? Without realizing it, he moved his hand onto Cas’ thigh and gave a squeeze before turning back to Ed. Dean was just about retort back when Sam cut in.

“Hey, everything he’s done has always been with the right intentions. Stuff kinda gets grey when dealing with saving the goddamn world,” Sam said resolutely. Dean’s heart grew, his brother was honestly defending his best friend. 

“How was shattering my Shatner an act of saving the world?! Star Trek embodies the precipice of human evolution and he goes and takes a hammer to its foremost captain!” Ed continued. Harry then interrupted under his breath, “That is if you consider Kirk and not Picard…” “This is a conversation for later, Harry!”

Dean put the pieces together and turned to look at Cas sitting next him, who now didn’t look quite as contrite. “Dude, you took a hammer to Captain Kirk? What the hell were you thinking?!” Dean almost felt personally offended.

“I was attempting to perform a minor miracle which wouldn’t work for some reason. I think they were not the actual intended witnesses as I had thought upon reading Chuck’s gospels.”

“But Captain Kirk?” Dean almost asked pleadingly. Ed and Harry looked at each other in confusion. They definitely didn’t expect Dean to be a fan of Star Trek.

“I don’t see why you’re so emotionally invested in fictional characters, Dean,” Cas huffed in frustration.

“Oh my god, will you two stop? Cas, we’ll show you Star Trek when we get back after all of this. That make you happy now, Dean?”

“We’re starting from the beginning. I don’t care if I have to have Charlie hunt down old VHS copies. New human has to have something go right for him, might as well know the true glory of Star Trek in the correct order,” Dean grumbled back to Sam.

Cas turned with a small smile on his face and looked into Dean’s eyes, “The past few days have had quite a few things go right.”

And dear fucking god, the two were eye fucking again! Sam had been annoyed by it before Cas’ fall (though he didn’t call it eye fucking then, just them having a moment), but it was like they couldn’t stop the googly eyes for a second now! Sam was about to clear his throat when the two dumbfounded faces of the Ghostfacers came into view and Harry asked, “New human? I thought you were an angel.”

Dean and Cas looked back at the Ghostfacers when the waitress came up between Dean and Sam and said, “Honey, you don’t use a tired old pick up line like that on a guy when his boyfriend is sitting right next to him.”

There were many reactions all happening at once at the table. 

Harry quickly looked up, wide eyed and stammered, “I wasn’t hitting on him!” to the waitress and then turned quickly to Dean, “I swear!”

Sam threw his hand over his mouth to attempt to keep in his short of laughter at the honesty she didn’t even know she was speaking to the table and the absolute absurdity of the situation.

Ed simply shifted his gaze confusedly between Dean and Cas and the waitress.

Cas, much to Sam’s enjoyment, was actually blushing and attempting to stare with all his might out the window. This was so much better than his sausage comment this morning.

Dean slowly, deliberately, assuredly raised his face to look at the waitress straight in the eyes. He then realized it was the same waitress from this morning. “Hi there, Janet,” he said with his plastered on smile after a quick glance to her name tag. “It seems that I brought along two additional man children with me for lunch. Though,” his eyes then shot across to Ed and Harry, “these two err more on the side of child than man,” he growled.

“Honey, it’s the end of my shift now, so I’ll let you throw as much of your sausage as you want around the table as long as you tip like you did at breakfast.”

At that, Sam just couldn’t do it, he couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore. Dean… throwing his sausage... around the whole table… It was too much and Sam burst out laughing louder than a moose call in mating season. “Oh my god, I am giving you the biggest tip you’ve ever seen after that!” he bellowed in between laughing fits.

Now Dean was positively glowering at his younger brother.

“So what can I get you all?” The waitress’ quick return to normalcy jolted them all back to reality and they all shuffled their plastic menus and ordered. Cas pulled a smile out of Dean when he asked for cherry pie to accompany his bacon cheeseburger and Dean seconded his order. Sam pulled his “your eating habits are atrocious” bitchface at the two of them.

After Janet walked off with their orders, Sam spoke up. “Alright, so you two have some idea of what’s going on, but you need to know that there is something bigger than all of this going on.”

“Sam, are you sure we should tell them?”

The younger Winchester turned to the older. “Dean, if it’s this big in a town like Lawrence, what do you think it starting to happen across the rest of the country and the world? The hunter community is going to need ALL the help it can get. And these guys say they’ve faced ghosts without our help now, so maybe it’s time to start…” Sam sighed, “passing along the torch.”

Ed and Harry’s mouths almost dropped to the table. They couldn’t believe that a WINCHESTER was actually about to help them and set them off on their own.

“Alright, but ONLY the important stuff.”

“Of course, Dean.” Sam turned back to the Ghostfacers. “So, first things first. Heaven is closed.”

“I’m sorry, Heaven?” Ed asked skeptically.

“Uh, ya, dimwit. If you’ve already met an angel, why wouldn’t you believe in Heaven?”

“Oh shut it Dean, you killed demons and even went to Hell before you believed in angels and now look at you.” Sam gestured over to Cas.

“Wait,” Harry interjected. “So why can’t the angels be in Heaven? Why is he stuck here and not teleporting around scaring the bejeezus out of everyone?”

“My grace was stolen from me and used as the final component of the spell that sealed the Gates of Heaven. I’m now as human as anyone at this table. This is why there has been an increase in hauntings. The souls of those destined for Heaven are deterred from passing through the veil and are stuck in the inbetween.”

“Another thing,” Sam added. “Angels are roaming the Earth and if you were afraid of Cas breaking your stuff, then you have a lot more to worry about the rest of them.”

“Let’s just say that ‘Touched by an Angel’ won’t be the fluffy shit on TV or even the kinky kind. It’s more of a burn your soul out through your eyes sort of touch,” Dean snarkily explained.

“So, our biggest problem is dealing with all of the hauntings right now. People are going to start freaking out soon and I don’t want to see what will happen when they think the world is ending over this,” Sam said.

“Although ironically, this time it actually _isn’t_ ending,” Cas muttered under his breath.

“Well,” Ed started, “maybe we lay down a line of salt around the hospital to make sure that it stays contained first?”

Sam’s eyebrows raised ridiculously high like they always did when he was pleasantly surprised and looked to Dean. “That… could work as a first step.”

Dean shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this, but okay, let’s work together on this.”

Over their food, Team Free Will and the Ghostfacers joined forces and began a plan to begin slowly salting and narrowing down the hospital to particular wards that had the highest death rates - geriatrics, oncology, and the ICU were the main targets. By isolating the spirits in their wards, they might be able to prevent a full haunting of the hospital and prevent wards like pediatrics from having to suffer.

They still had to figure out a way line the open corridors with all of the heavy foot traffic, so they decided to try contacting Garth to coordinate with the Hunter Network. Dean dialed up Garth’s direct line.

“Hi there Dean!” the cheery voice chimed through the phone.

“Hey Garth,” Dean’s rough voice greeted the other man over the phone. 

“Good to hear your voice again, man. Hadn’t heard from you since after you found Kevin.”

“Ya, thanks for the help in the search back then, but truth be told, I’m glad we ended up finding him ourselves. Crowley did a number on him.”

“As far as I’m concerned, your hideout is the safest place for him. Even I’ve tried locating you guys to no avail. Dean, how am I supposed find you cases if I can’t find you?” It felt like Garth was using his best “mama disapproves of your choices” voice that he could muster.

“Dude, we went over this already. Sam’s not a fan of you tracking us like that.” Sam bitchfaced over to him and mouthed, ‘throw me under the bus.’ And Dean continued, “But nevermind all that, we’ve got something big on our hands and we need everyone to know what’s going on.”

Dean gave Garth the downlow on angels, to beware of them and reapers, and that hauntings are in the process of skyrocketing around the nation and most likely the globe. Garth promised to spread the word and look for ideas on dealing with haunting centric places like hospitals and retirement homes. Dean finished up the phone call with one additional request.

“Oh, and Garth, we have a couple of new recruits to be kept in the loop.” Ed and Harry’s eyes widened and and their mouths dropped. Addressing the two rather than the one on the phone, Dean commanded, “Gimme your phones you nitwits…” After getting the two guys’ phones, Dean gave Garth their names and phone numbers and put the phone on speakerphone. “Say hi to your newest additions, Garth”

“Hey guys! I just got to ask, Ed and Harry… Are you two the Ghostfacers?”

“Why yes we are!” Ed said while beaming a smug face over to the Winchester brothers.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Dean moaned and dropped his head to the table in disgust, a loud _thunk_ sounding out. Cas seemed to be just as annoyed and rolled his head back along with a very exaggerated eye roll.

“Garth, you know these guys?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

“Oh man! You gotta watch their videos - they’re a riot! They’ve gone viral in the hunter community. When are you two puttin’ out more?” Garth laughed over the phone line.

“Ed! We’ve done it!” Harry exclaimed while fisting Ed’s shirt in his small hands. “We’ve gone viral! That’s the pinnacle of internet fame! We’re going to make so much on ad revenue now!”

Garth sounded out from the phone again, “Whoa slow down there, guys. You DO know that most of your ads are hidden hunter communications and specific advertisements, right? I don’t know if you’ll be gettin’ much more, but it’s already been helpful. And I gotta say, Dean. I’m surprised you’re working with them again. They haven’t been too kind about you and Sam after your first episode aired all those years ago.” Sam and Dean turned their heads to glare at the two newly minted hunters. “Though I gotta admit, it might also be why some of the hunters love their stuff so much. And did you know they met an angel before they all fell? That or it was some great special effects.” And now Cas was glaring at the ones across the table.

Sam cut Garth off, “Yeah, yeah, we get it. For now though, let’s just consider them ghost… specialists.” The word felt gross in his mouth in reference to the two sitting to his right. “Keep them on spirit stuff, I don’t know if they’re ready to face any other creatures.”

“That’s damn right, most of their lore is way off from the real stuff. Hey Ed and Harry, NEVER try to stake a vampire, got it?” Garth’s southern twang rang out.

“Got it,” they both agreed quickly.

A faint phone ring was heard across the line. “Balls! That’s the FBI line, I bet Trevor’s got his credentials mixed up again. Keep in touch guys!”

“Bye Garth,” Dean ended the phone call and looked back up at the Ghostfacers who would now be facing down a lot more ghosts. “Alright, we’ve got an old friend to meet up with so it’s time for you two,” a very determined finger pointing at them, “to head back to wherever you’re staying. We’ll be in touch tomorrow morning.” With that Dean got up from the table and threw down enough cash to cover their bill and a hefty tip. “And you two are paying for lunch next time since you’re bonafide businessmen and all.” Sam and Dean followed Dean out of the restaurant and into the Impala.

“So, where to now?” Cas asked.

“We’ve got an old friend to meet up with, so I say, on to Missouri’s place.”

“You mean, like we did with Pamela?” Sam asked.

“If she could do it, then so could Missouri,” Dean replied.

“You can’t be serious,” Cas questioned with worry. “With things as messed up as is, Astral Projection is a risk. Your body will be extremely vulnerable without your soul intact.”

Pulling up in front of Missouri’s house, Dean cut the engine and glanced in the rearview mirror to meet Cas’ eyes. “It’s a risk we gotta take.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! Sorry about that, but I got so carried away with the plot, I couldn’t end at the day’s mark this time :)
> 
> I hate how they skewered the Ghostfacers in #Thinman just to have a super cheap and obvious parallel to Sam and Dean this season. I might be more broken up about Ed and Harry not being bros now, more than Sam and Dean :( Oh, and I wrote most of this before 9x22 with the horrible and terrible and sadly OOC Tessa that they wrote. My headcanon will forever be that Tessa is awesome and aloof and not what they made her in that episode. The last 1,000 words or so were finished after the finale, but I’m not even touching my thoughts about the finale… I’m dying inside! gahhhhhhhhhh hiatus!
> 
> As always! Leave a comment! I'd love to hear what you think and any ideas you might suggest! (Sorry for all the exclamation marks, I'm just really excited :)
> 
> Oh, and if you want to know what Dean's "gummy smile" looks like, [this](http://media.tumblr.com/afd34b731557035d66f72f6c97d6f0f0/tumblr_inline_mhx1t8YAVP1qz4rgp.png) is it.


	4. Finding Friends Old and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Matthew, can you help us find our friend? She has dark hair like Cas and is very pretty. She can see and talk to you and me too.”
> 
> “Well, I think you’re really pretty too,” a feminine voice said from behind them.
> 
> Dean let go of Matthew’s hand to turn around and address the source of the voice. Castiel immediately tensed and picked Matthew up into his arms before he also turned around. He furrowed his brow to give his usual intimidating stare though Dean seemed far too comfortable.
> 
> “Hey there Tessa, long time no see, but I’m gonna count that as a good thing,” Dean replied back to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Sorry this took me so long to update but we moved into a new place (yay first home!) and I've been absolutely swamped with stuff to do. So here, enjoy an almost 10k update! Some plot, but lots of fluff too :)
> 
> (I super loved writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it too!)
> 
> [7/18/14 - made some edits to this chapter and the end notes for the others and reposted, this is not a new chapter but I'm working on the next one now]

“Boys, I won’t say this again, I am not comfortable with performing astral projections with the state of the veil right now. Everything is too messed up to ensure a normal procedure. And my other senses aren’t giving me a very good feeling about all of this. Feels dangerous,” Missouri angrily quipped at Dean. Cas’ sass showed through as he perked an eyebrow up in such a human “I-told-you-so” way that it had Dean wondering if Sam had been giving him lessons on how to screw his face up to annoy the fuck out of Dean.

“Shuddup, you’re worse than Sammy,” Dean groused back to Cas. Returning to Missouri, Dean argued, “But this might help us get a grip on fixing this thing, Missouri. Sam and I have done it before - “

“And Pamela died because it tipped off the forces at work and she couldn’t defend herself.” Missouri’s sharp words pierced all three boys. She felt the pain in each of them, feeling their loss and their guilt - at her loss of sight and her loss of life. “She was strong and insightful, but I’m not a young whippersnapper like she was. I won’t be able to protect your bodies for long, if at all.”

“Then one of us stays here,” Sam spoke up. “We’ll stay here with you to protect the place and each other while the other two go speak to Tessa. Obviously Dean should go to Tessa, but which one of us should stay here with Missouri?” Sam asked to Cas.

“Not for nothing, but uh, Cas? Just how human are you now? Do you… have a soul?”

Though Castiel understood Dean’s suggestion, he bristled at the wording. “Just how human am I?” Cas asked with a rising tone. “Well let’s see, I’ve already been killed once. I have to eat to maintain my endurance multiple times a day. Don’t even get me started on the persistence of relieving human waste. I’m tired every night and emotions pull at me constantly inhibiting my sleep - _which I require now_. And..” he sighed, “I miss my wings most of all. So yes Dean, I’d say I’m human now.” Cas ended his rant dejectedly. He thought he’d been accepted back to the hunters; he didn’t realize he had to prove his worthiness to be human. Perhaps, Dean and Sam would never see him as an equal, even at his lowest point.

“K, that settles it, Cas is coming with me. Sam, you stay here to guard us and Missouri.”

“Dean, I’m not sure this is a good idea. Does a fallen angel have a soul or simply lack their grace? If this was already risky, maybe we should use the two of us who definitely have souls.”

Cas flinched at the words. He figured that he did indeed qualify as a fallen angel, even though he didn’t choose his fall like Anna had. Then he realized, though the circumstances were different, it was still very much the same.

“Says Mr. Formerly Soulless. Hey, when Anna fell, her grace was severed from her and she became fully human with a soul, right? So I bet it’s the same with Cas. What better way to test that out?” Dean asked.

“You all keep forgetting there is someone else in the damn room,” Missouri then added to the mix. “Everyone here with us now is human, and I can tell. Now shut your mouths and let’s get started on this before I change my mind.”

“Alright,” Dean said slipping into his hunter working mode, “Sam, you need to ward the room against angels and demons and everything in between. Can we ward against reapers?”

“Don’t think so, they’re supposed to be the only beings that can always access a soul. Nothing in any lore I’ve ever read has come up with anything. Not even in dark magic. You can control a reaper with some dark artifacts - remember that faith healer? - but you can’t ward yourself from it,” Sam supplied. 

“Okay, then the angel blade is your weapon of the day,” Dean said while handing over his blade. 

Missouri then set about preparing everything for the astral projection in a spare bedroom of her home. Dean and Cas laid next to each other on the queen sized bed and closed their eyes waiting for the procedure to take effect. After a minute, Dean sat up in bed to test it out and found that he did indeed see his body laying serenely on the floral covers. 

“Hey, Cas. You there, buddy?”

Castiel peeked his eyes open and turned his head minutely to flick his eyes between Dean’s prone form on the bed and his upright position.

“Sit up then, we’ve got work to do,” Dean told Cas.

Cas then sat up, diverging his astral body from his physical body just as Dean had done.

“It appears it did work on me,” Cas said quietly in no small amount of awe.

“Yep, fully fledged humanity confirmed then…” Dean trailed off. Coming back to his senses, Dean turned back to the matter at hand. “Now to go find Tessa.” The two of them then set off for the hospital walking through the room as Missouri and Sam looked about expectantly.

It was odd for Dean to walk in the daylight without the recognition from the people around him, yet Castiel seemed completely at ease. Dean figured Cas used to do a lot of this invisible people watching during his angelic time. Regretfully, the reminder of Cas spying on them while working with Crowley snuck to the front of his head. The hunter shook his head trying to throw that thought away, that of Cas’ second most betrayal. It was in the past now, years had gone by, more fights had been had, and they were back together this time as equals.

Walking through the town onto their destination, Dean noticed a small disturbance in an ice cream parlor on the main drag leading to the hospital. What should have been a quaint afternoon in the shop looked like it had turned into a massive food fight - complete with screaming patrons running out of the door. Turning to Cas, Dean motioned for them to go check it out.

The two bypassed the rushing people and walked into the store. A teenaged clerk was cowering behind the counter while a small boy, probably no more than 4 years old was scooping icecream out of the display and giggling in glee as he slung it across the room. Dean looked at Cas and cocked an eyebrow before turning to talk to the child.

“Hey there buddy, you having fun there?” Dean asked leaning over the countertop.

The kid suddenly stopped all movement and Cas noticed that the cowering teenager took the opportunity to scurry into the back and out of the back door.

“Wowwww,” the little boy started, “Are you here to play with me? No one else wants to play with me in here and I’m stuck staying inside. I can’t go out and play.” The little boy seemed to slump down in sadness and dropped the ice cream scoop into the tub he’d been digging out of.

“Well, we’re on our way to go meet up with some other friends, but we noticed you in here,” Dean replied. Cas simply stood still about a foot behind his friend. Apparently Dean knew how to deal with children well. The most experience Cas had had was healing small children as random miracles. The former angel watched as Dean moved around the counter and crouched next to the boy.

“What’s your name, kid?” Dean then asked.

“Matthew Lucas Johnson and I’m four and a half years old!” Matthew proudly recited back to Dean holding up four fingers on one hand and a crooked tiny index finger on the other. “See, that’s the other half,” the child said as he wiggled his fingers in front of Dean.

“Well my name is Dean and that guy over there is my friend Cas - he’s a little shy,” Dean said while nodding over to Cas with a slight smirk on his lips.

“Uh, yes, hello Matthew,” Cas haltingly let out. (Should he wave? Was that a thing he should do for small children? Offering a handshake seemed ridiculous. Cas just decided to keep his hands by his side as usual.)

Turning back to Matthew, Dean asked, “Why were you scaring all those people, Matt? That didn’t seem like a very nice thing to do.”

“It’s Mattheeewwwwww,” the boy said with an eye roll far too old for his young age. (Must have picked it up from his parents, Dean thought.) “I wasn’t trying to scare them, I just wanted to play with them. I finallllyyyy learned how to pick up the ice cream scooper. It was even harder than my ABCs, but I did it!” Matthew stated proudly.

“You know, I don’t even know if I can do that yet. You wanna see if I can try it?” Dean responded, to which Matthew nodded his head excitedly. Dean reached out for the scoop from Matthew’s hand, but when the child passed it off to him, it simply fell down to the ground with a loud clunk. Cas rolled his eyes and started round the counter. 

“Guess I’m a little out of practice since the last time,” Dean tried to joke over to Cas. However, Cas was now at his side and picked up the scoop from the ground and turned to drop it into the sink.

“Wow! You’re really good!” Matthew squealed with glee.

“Whoa man, how’d you figure that shit out already?” Dean questioned in confusion.

“The ability is extremely similar to the same method of the manipulation of physics that angels perform to manifest their grace in multiple planes. You could say that I have quite a bit of practice,” Cas explained with a sly grin.

As Cas surveyed the tiny specter’s mess, he noticed that all of the tubs had been gotten into except for one.

“Matthew, why didn’t you play with any of the hazelnut ice cream?” Cas suddenly asked with a frown.

“Because that’s the one that made me stop breathing and Mommy left me here all alone after I couldn’t breathe anymore,” Matthew started to sniffle. “I fell asleep and then there were two of me and Mommy was crying and screaming. When the firemen came and the other guys, they took the other me away and Mommy went with them. I tried to stop her and tell her that I was still here, but she couldn’t hear me.” The poor child was now sobbing while trying to get out his story. Dean’s heart melted in an instant, faster than the syrupy dairy dripping down the walls. He thrust his not physical arms around and brought the boy into an embrace.

“Hey buddy, it’s okay. The ice cream made you sick, but you’re going to be okay.” Dean glanced up to Cas with sorrow in his eyes. “Cas, do you think you and me together would be enough of a presence to bring his spirit out of the shop? I don’t know if he’s managed the ability to leave the place yet.”

Cas felt a cacophony of emotions pulling at him. He felt almost fully angel again with his understanding of astral projection and the power of spirits, but he was devastated at hearing the Matthew’s tears and story and at the same time, a small burgeoning feeling of love and peace sprung up around those terrible emotions as he watched the empathy from Dean. The former angel cleared his head and took to thinking about the possibility.

“I believe that we could achieve that, yes,” Cas said determinedly.

“Alright then,” Dean then addressed the child in his arms. Pushing the boy out a little, Dean looked him in the eye, “Matthew, we’re going to take you to meet our friends. They’ll be able to play with you too. Do you want to come with us?”

Little Matthew nodded his head almost violently and burst into a smile.

“K, on our way then!” Dean singsonged to the kid. Cas waved his hand and the ice cream shop door flew open. His friend glanced back and teased, “Enjoying that much?” to which Cas simply shrugged his shoulders. The hunter turned softie held out his hand to the boy who clasped it with fervor. However, Matthew then turned back to Cas and offered out his hand with eyebrows raised and an expectant look emblazoned on his face. When Cas simply stared in confusion at the proffered hand, Matthew shook it crazily. “Come on, Cas! We’re all holding hands! It’ll be like going to see the wizard!”

Cas then seized the tiny hand within his and smiled at the child. “Thank you, Matthew. I’ve never gotten to hold anyone’s hand before. I’d be delighted.” After thanking him, Cas looked up to Dean to start moving only to see a fond, though distant look roll over his features.

“You know, I don’t know if I’ve held hands with very many other people either,” Dean said quietly while looking deep into Cas’ eyes. And wouldn’t you know it, Dean could have sworn that a blush crept across Cas’ cheeks.

The trio then headed out of the ice cream parlour and down the street towards the hospital while Matthew swung their arms and hummed under his breath. 

In this small moment, Dean almost forgot that they were incorporeal projections seeking to meet with a reaper to try to mediate an epic haunting. He almost forgot that the little blonde boy swinging his arm and grasping his hand had died weeks ago. The hunter almost forgot that he was a hunter, that he had left another little boy (though a few years older) back behind with a stunning woman whom he did indeed used to hold hands with, that his dark haired partner with the quiet smile on the other side of the darling child between them was only his best friend and not… something more.

They reached the hospital and immediately noticed a change in the air and the crowd of people. Dean and Cas could tell that the wandering people in hospital gowns were some of those stuck behind the veil just like Matthew. Castiel gripped the child’s hand tighter as a wave of protectiveness washed over him. For some reason, though he felt it as similar to protectiveness over Dean, it held an intensity of a different nature. The former angel knew that technically no harm could come to the already deceased child, but he still worried that perhaps this place might turn his soul vengeful before its time.

Dean led them towards pediatrics, figuring that they might find other children there for Matthew. Before they reached the ward, he stopped for a moment and bent down to talk to the boy. “Matthew, can you help us find our friend? She has dark hair like Cas and is very pretty. She can see and talk to you and me too.”

“Well, I think you’re really pretty too,” a feminine voice said from behind them.

Dean let go of Matthew’s hand to turn around and address the source of the voice. Castiel immediately tensed and picked Matthew up into his arms before he also turned around. He furrowed his brow to give his usual intimidating stare though Dean seemed far too comfortable.

“Hey there Tessa, long time no see, but I’m gonna count that as a good thing,” Dean replied back to her.

“Well same here, I can’t say it’s a good thing that I’m talking with you again.” Tessa turned to Castiel and Matthew. “So who do you have here?” she questioned with a snark met with a frown from Cas.

“How do we know we can trust her,” Cas asked Dean. Tessa looked over to Dean with her eyebrow quirked at Cas’ tense reaction.

“Castiel, I’m the one who spoke with you this morning through Marceline,” Tessa said turning back to the former angel.

Dean then cut her off. “Cas, this is Tessa like Sam and I thought it would be. She’s one of the reapers that you had us save from Alastair back before the big shebang.” Tessa let out a quick “Thanks for that,” with a smile diffusing her previously snarky demeanor. Dean put a reassuring hand on Cas’ shoulder and then ruffled Matthew’s non corporeal hair. He felt a pang of regret, but turned to the matter at hand.

“Tessa, we have some big things to chat with you about, but Matthew here is looking for some friends. He’s been stuck for a while in the ice cream parlour down the road and no one has come to talk to him,” Dean said pointedly.

“Well, I know that Rosie upstairs has been looking for a friend,” Tessa said to boy in Cas’ arms. “Would you like to meet her and see if she’d like a new friend?”

Matthew nodded his head, though his hands clenched in Cas’ shirt. “Yeah, I want to meet her, but what about Dean and Cas? Will she get to meet them too? They’re really nice, I promise. And Cas is really good at holding stuff! Even better than I am!”

Dean nodded to Cas and motioned to place Matthew onto the floor. He then crouched down. “Rosie is probably going to be a lot of fun, but you gotta promise to behave and help her not to scare people like what happened in the ice cream parlour. You’re gonna have people to play with and Tessa is going to be there with you too.” Dean looked up to meet Tessa’s gaze, “Right?” And she nodded in agreement.

Castiel then leaned down. “Matthew, you will probably see us again, but we might not be able to see you. Don’t scare anyone to get our attention, but just think really hard about wanting us to see you and maybe we’ll be able to, okay?”

The little boy nodded and proceeded to hug each of the hunters. Tessa held out her hand to Matthew and poofed away. Dean turned to Cas to try and lighten their sinking hearts. “Well, we may have been the babysitters, but too bad there wasn’t a pizzaman, ya?” 

Cas huffed out a laugh, “I’m glad that you could keep your sexual innuendos to yourself until six full seconds after the child left our presence.” While he laughed at his friend’s joke, he secretly was wondering what had come over Dean to make a joke about the two of them with third _man_. Dean on the other hand brushed off Cas’ comments only to reflect on his joke that he had _very_ much just insinuated having a threesome with TWO other men. Holy shit, this day was getting away from him and he decided that it was all Sam’s fault from this morning.

Tessa then reappeared alongside them and Dean’s mind came back to the task at hand, but Cas jumped in first.

“Why didn’t Matthew have a reaper? That child was alone from the minute he died, stuck in a building with no one else,” Cas harshly chided the reaper.

“One minute you question my every intention, the next you’re asking me why I’m not there? While I appreciate your help a while ago, I’d really appreciate a little more trust here and now.”

“Hey,” Dean cut in, “We haven’t had such great luck with reapers recently. Cas was fucking killed by one just a few days ago.” (Was it really only a few days ago? Dean couldn’t believe how fast time was going by.) 

“Killed? Damn it. Things are getting worse than I thought.” Tessa paused. “Matthew most likely didn’t have a reaper because we’re spread a little thin right now. Most of us have been concentrating on the high density areas, so places like a random ice cream store get forgotten about… I’m sorry.”

“Wait, so you didn’t know about the rogue reapers working for the grounded angels and their dickwad leader Bartholomew?”

“I had heard that some of the reapers had left their positions but this the first I’ve heard of them teaming up with angels. I think I’m actually happy to hear about that,” she laughed mirthlessly.

“Happy?” Cas spat back. “One of them took possession of a young woman and murdered me!”

Dean held out a hand as Cas’ anger began to bubble up. He then started in on Tessa, “Seriously, this reaper bitch took control of an innocent girl and we had to gank her. So siding with dickhead angels is NOT a good thing.”

“First off,” Tessa countered, “we can only inhabit the bodies of the already deceased. We’re creatures of death created by Death. The bodies of the living have nothing to do with us. So the girl must have already been dead for that to happen.” With Tessa’s pause, Dean and Cas shared a small look of relief. “But do you want to know why I may be happy they’re working with the forces of Heaven?” Dean scoffed at her insinuation. “Because Death is pretty pissed off right now as some of his creations have been working for Abaddon.”

Dean and Cas stared in shock at Tessa’s words.

“What do you mean,” Dean growled.

“Some of the reapers… have begun taking the souls destined for Heaven but stuck in the veil… to Abaddon and Hell to collect power and armies to overpower Crowley’s reign.” Tessa breathed out slightly. “They’re turning away from simply shepherding to corrupting the souls by delivering them to Hell.”

“Why are they doing this?” Cas asked.

“We’ve lived for eons with the same purpose and suddenly it is taken away from us. Some reapers had been possessed in the past,” Tessa visibly shuddered, “and they remembered the power that can come from an association with Hell. We reapers are supposed to be neutral, but the temptations of power are too much for some. Myself? I’ve had more than my fair share of interactions with demons and I will never broach that path. I’ll stand next to Death for as long as I’m destined to.” Tessa finished up her explanation.

“Reapers can be possessed?” Dean queried. “Can you get anti-possession marks?”

“We’re non-corporeal, so no. Death will stay as neutral as ever. His domain is only to deliver the inevitable. He does not want to be involved in the forces of Heaven and Hell again - THAT he leaves up to you two, or three as it now appears. I can say this, if you get the Gates of Heaven back open again, much of this problem will go away at once.”

“In the meantime, maybe you can help us out here, Tess,” Dean implored. “Think you could play babysitter to this bunch here? We’ve going to be going through salting the hospital and wards to keep the spirits contained a bit better, but if you’re able to talk some sense into these ones, we might be able to keep the vengefulness down to a minimum.”

“Ha! Babysitter? More like permanent psychologist! You know, this was always part of my job, but I never had to deal with a single soul for longer than their final yes or no. Now? Every day!” Tessa shook her head. “But of course, I’ll work on this and let the other reapers know to do the same.”

“Thank you,” Cas then finally joined the conversation again. “And please forgive my earl-” but Cas was suddenly cut off as he disappeared from view. Dean and Tessa shot their eyes to each other.

“Something is wrong if Castiel’s projection was interrupted,” Tessa warned quickly.

“Fuck, I need to get back there,” Dean replied.

“First, Dean, read the Angel Tablet. There should be instructions on how to open the Gates!”

His mind flashing to Kevin back at the bunker, another thought suddenly came to his mind. “Tessa, real quick, do you know if Linda Tran has passed on or if she’s stuck in the veil?” Dean had each of this hands gripping Tessa’s shoulders in anticipation for her answer.

“I… can’t tell you for certain, but I don’t believe so,” she stated.

“That’s good enough for now. You hear for certain and you let me know through Missouri Mosely in town, got that? Now I need to-” and Dean disappeared as well.

Back at Missouri’s house only moments before, Cas opened his eyes back in his own body to find Sam brawling with an unknown man in the small room. Missouri was hunched over on his side with blood streaking down the side of her face.

“Boy, get your ass in that fight!” she shouted as she shoved him upwards. 

Sam had been fighting with the man in the hallway after he and Missouri had heard the front door busted down earlier. Trying to keep the assailant out of the room where Dean, Cas, and Missouri were, he fought in the cramped corridor. The man’s eyes had flashed black in seeing Sam about to face off against him. He’d sneared at Sam and said, “Sometimes you don’t need anything more than a strong arm to a door to break a salt line, Winchester,” before starting in on the fight.

Given the one on one fight with three bodies to protect, Sam had done all he could to stop the advancement of the demon, but got thrown into the room far too quickly into the fight. Missouri hadn’t gotten out the full incantation into Cas’ ear before they were stumbling in and throwing furniture around. Once Cas was alert, he scrambled up off the bed only to be thrown to the side as Sam landed on top of him with a push from the demon. The black eyed bastard then turned towards Dean’s still body on the bed as Missouri was just finishing up his incantation. He backhanded Missouri and drew a dagger and just as Dean woke and sat up, the demon slashed across his chest and Dean let out a shout of pain. The wounded hunter fell back on the bed in pain and confusion. 

Sam and Cas were up and about to attack the demon when it suddenly flew against the back wall. Cas looked at Sam in astonishment who was returning the same look back at him. Cas then looked over to Dean grasping his blood soaked chest.

“Dean!” he shouted running over to his side.

“M’fine Cas. Go gank those motherfuckers,” Dean creaked out.

“Those?” Cas asked before turning around.

“Yeah, those,” Sam replied resolutely while staring at the door.

A small woman stood just outside the door in the hallway with her hand outstretched. She took a step into the doorframe and immediately weakened her power over the demon. He slid to the floor and started again towards the boys.

“The wards!” her shrill voice cried out, but still stepped into the room to engage in fighting the demon. Cas got up from Dean’s side and advanced as did Sam. But suddenly, the woman regained her power and threw the demon to the wall once more. In an instant, Sam and Cas were on his throat with their blades pressed against his vital parts.

“What the hell are you here for?” Sam growled threateningly.

“I’ve done enough of my job,” he laughed into Sam’s face. Turning to look at Dean, his bloody hand bracing the wall with a red smear through the angel warding symbol. “He’s ready for her possession now. She’ll take his body as was planned from the-” and the demon’s orifices glowed out brightly in red/yellow light as Cas’ blade sunk into the body.

“Cas!” Sam yelled, “What the hell?!”

“He’d report back to Abaddon, I couldn’t let that happen!” Cas started to talk wildly. “We’ve got to get Dean back to the bunker. Inside the Impala is warded, yes? We have to move now!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Cas?” Sam questioned, completely forgetting about their newest inhuman visitor.

Strong hands clamped onto Cas’ shoulders and spun him around. “Cas, it’s okay. I’m fine. Bloody, but I’m gonna be fine.”

Cas looked straight into Dean’s eyes. “But your tattoo, it’s ruined. She can come at any time, Dean. We need to get you…”

“Uhh… actually I’m still good,” Dean let out shyly. Sam and Cas stared at his sudden change in mood. “I, uh, actually got another one after Abaddon threatened the last time. In a place where I realized I don’t often get hurt on hunts…” he trailed off.

Sam’s eyes suddenly sparkled in mirth at the realization. “Oh my god, Dean. You didn’t copy that fangirl… did you?”

“Hey!” Dean barked in defense. “It was a tactical decision!”

“Right…” Sam laughed at him.

Suddenly, still held in Dean’s arms, Cas realized where Dean had gotten the tattoo on his body and blushed profusely in thinking about that particular area while so close to his friend. Dean blustered a bit as well, let go of Cas, and turned his attention to the newcomer.

She was petite (though that meant nothing in terms of angelic powers) with very light brown, almost blonde hair and dressed in what looked to be a park ranger uniform.

“Diane,” Missouri said weakly. Sam immediately leapt over to Missouri’s side to help her onto the bed.

Diane took a step forward and Cas took a step towards her in response. “Who are you?” he questioned.

“I’m Muriel and you must be the Winchesters and Castiel.”

Dean had sat down next to Missouri wincing in pain and still clutching his chest. “Why are you here then, huh? Bartholomew sent you to take care of us before Abaddon did?”

“It that had been the case, you’d already be dead,” she retorted. Each in their own heads, Dean, Sam, and Cas laughed at her absurd assumption. “I’m here because I sensed a demon nearby and I tolerate no evil from Hell in my town,” she said defensively. “I’m simply trying to live as I did before, protecting those in my charge and now, this means Diane’s town of Lawrence.”

“So your vessel?” Cas ventured.

“Knows of my presence and lets me take control only in times of need.”

“Well then, how about a little bit of help here,” Dean groaned. Cas still stood between Muriel and the Winchesters and Missouri. “Cas, dude, heel!” he joked.

Cas rolled his eyes and stood to the side to let Muriel pass by. She laid a hand hovering over Dean’s chest and with a flash a light, he was healed. She then turned to Missouri and covered her forehead to heal the pain and gash on her.

“Well ain’t that something,” Missouri remarked.

Sam helped Missouri up and she led them out of the disastrous room and out to the dining table. She had Muriel join them as well. After that encounter, Sam knew that they needed a small respite, so he pulled out the fresh lemonade from Missouri’s fridge and poured everyone a glass.

Sighing before she sat down at the table, Missouri asked Dean and Cas what they had found out on their trip behind the veil.

“Aw, come on, Missouri, can’t read my thick skull?” Dean teased.

“Hush up, boy. You know I don’t work that way. And after that fiasco - which I warned you about - it’s time to get down to business.

Cas then interjected in order to move things along and explained the conversation that had transpired at the hospital. Dean then added on, “And there was a little boy whose reaper never came for him. Just stuck in the damn place where he died. He’s at the hospital now with Tessa though.” Dean’s dejection rang out at the silent table.

“Perhaps there is something more that can be done,” Muriel added in. “I may be able to volunteer at the hospital and perform some minor miracles to keep the spirit population down. I’ve heard from others that angels whose vessels worked at hospitals have been performing miracles elsewhere, just for different reasons. I just don’t believe we have one here in Lawrence.”

“Do you have contact with any of the other angels?” Cas then asked eagerly. “If you can coordinate with them, we may be able to put enough of a dent in the situation to buy some time to revert Metatron’s spell.”

“Metatron? But Castiel… I thought that you were the one that did this to us once again.”

Cas’ face fell in guilt, but not a second later Dean’s fist slammed on the table and he jerked his eyes to Muriel with a cold glare.

“Fuck you,” Dean let out venomously. “Cas didn’t do this, bitch. Metatron tricked him and stole his grace - slit his throat and siphoned it out of him. You think he did this on purpose? We’ve all fucked up in the past - including you lot who decided to try to end the goddamn world not too long ago - but this was a betrayal. You think he’d honestly fall of his own accord to hang out with us “mud monkeys” and get sick and lose people and die himself? Because you know that he’s already done that last one right? So how about when you’re coordinating with all your heavenly hostesses, you spread the damn word about the truth that’s going on. I’m sick of this shit,” Dean finished continuing the hard stare at the angel at the table.

Muriel simply returned his gaze for a moment before starting, “Well, then this is news to me. But news that I will gladly share.”

“Good,” Dean said lamely, unused to angels listening to him.

Sam then decided that they’d had enough craziness for one day. “Okay, so we have a plan and we’re all on the same page. Muriel, we’re going to be in town for a couple of days still, but after that, can you keep an eye on Missouri?” Missouri tried to interject, “Now now, Sam…” But Sam barrelled on. “She’s going to be on the radar and you already said that you’re trying to protect Lawrence - thank you for that by the way - so this would already be part of the job.”

“Of course,” she replied.

“Great, then I think we need some time to ourselves.” Pulling out his hunter contact phone, Sam offered his number and told her to get in touch with them if anything was needed. Muriel then headed out after taking care of the demon’s body in the other room.

Dean and Cas were still sitting silently at the kitchen table and Sam joined Missouri in the kitchen to whip up some quick sandwiches. The moments stretched by between the two silently before Cas decided to speak up.

“I don’t mind,” he stated simply.

“Huh?” Dean asked, looking up from his clasped hands.

“I don’t mind being human despite all the pain,” Cas continued. Dean was about to speak again when Cas cut him off, “And I _have_ thought about about falling,” he finished.

“When?”

“When I was all but human before we faced down Michael and Lucifer. I thought that maybe, after all that angels had reeked upon humanity, that maybe I should try it out this wonderful thing that I had been protecting.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I did not.”

“Why, Cas? Why didn’t you fall? What kept you as an angel then?”

“You.”

A moment slipped by. Sam and Missouri had finished the sandwiches and Sam was about to call them into the kitchen when the psychic slapped a hand over his mouth and whispered, not yet.

“Me?” Dean hung his head. “Seeing all that I did convinced you it wasn’t worth it, huh?” The self deprecation hung in the air.

“No, because you didn’t need me… You had someone else and I… I wasn’t needed anymore.”

Dean was still staring at his hands. Did Cas just confess that he thought about staying with Dean for years? Did he just admit that he wanted to be with Dean as an equal all those years ago? Did he just compare his role to that of Lisa? Wrapping his brain around that last equation, Dean then acted quickly yet slowly at the same time. He felt like his hand had shot out from his body, but in reality it had simply slid across the table. Dean grasped for Cas’ hand and gripped it tight (though he did not raise it from perdition). Cas’ eyes grew wide as Dean’s lifted up to match his own.

“Cas, buddy. I needed you then, and I needed you back in the crypt, and I still need you now.” (And holy crap, was he actually going to say it now? Was he going to admit the three huge words?) But Dean stuttered for a moment, gave Cas’ hand a squeeze, and said, “We’re a team, a great one, and I’m not the same without you by my side.”

On the other side of the table, Cas’ whole world had slid to a halt with that repeating phrase dripping from Dean’s lips. He WAS needed and it was DEAN who needed him… STILL. Of course, the hope that Cas had been nursing wasn’t bashed, but swept to the side for the moment as Dean reverted back to their age old partnership instead of taking that final step into admitting something that Cas was almost sure was mutual after this conversation. Just this morning he had a completely different view of Dean and now… it was confusing. But that small hope had now burrowed into his heart and he wasn’t going to let some internalized homophobia get him down. Instead, he just squeezed Dean’s hand back, smiled a grateful smile, and pulled his hand back. “Let’s go get food. I don’t know about you, but life threatening situations make me hungry,” he said while pushing his chair from the table and rising to meet Sam and Missouri in the kitchen.

Dean was a little stunned. He felt like he had ruined something, but instead, Cas seemed content with what it was. Smiling to himself, he stood up as well. “You’re a-” (man after my own heart, his lips wanted to say) “ah.. getting pretty good at this hunter thing.”

Cas simply laughed, shook his head, and surprisingly the mood was lightened. While scarfing sandwiches, the boys promised Missouri that they’d fix up her place while they were still in town. Sam called Kevin to update him and to tell him to keep searching for anything about the Gates of Heaven, that they had it on good authority that it should be on there. Dean convinced them all to run back to the motel to shower and then head over to the Slow Ride Roadhouse for a few rounds of hunter’s helper after their crazy busy day. Sometimes it seemed like it was all or nothing on the action side of this job.

Pulling up, Dean immediately knew they were in the right place as Harleys lined the front parking area. A few of the bikers whistled appreciatively at the Impala as she roared into the parking lot and gave Dean a compliment on his classic ride. Dean’s ego - of course- was boosted immensely and he strided as proud as ever into the bar. The three of them chose a booth as they normally did towards the corner back of the bar with a view of the exits.

“So, since they are in town and - ugh - working with us now, you think we should call the Ghostfacers to meet us here?” Sam joked.

“Fuck no! They’d get eaten up in a place like this,” Dean exclaimed.

“I’d much prefer to see them as little as possible,” Cas added resolutely.

Sam laughed out loud. “I’m kidding, kidding!” raising his hands in defense. “Though, I WOULD like to see their video with you in it, Cas.” Sam pulled out his smartphone.

“Please, Sam, NO,” Cas begged.

“Dude, YES,” Dean responded happily.

Sam pulled up the youtube clip of the episode and the brothers laughed at Cas as he glowered at them behind his beer bottle. When Cas took up the hammer, Dean said, “Oh god, Cas, this is it, isn’t it. WHY?”

“I already explained myself Dean!”

Sam kept on laughing and especially laughed louder at Cas’ continual popping up at every turn after the Kirk incident. Over the next hour, they had a couple of more beers and laughed over their stories of their various run ins with the two guys and their cohort.

Cas’ grin was as wide as his eyes and Dean couldn’t believe he’d never gotten to witness this before. Cas had toasted to humanity, clinked his bottle with Sam, and then turned to Dean and clinked his bottle with a wink. “Can I get the next round? This is something I’ve never gotten to do yet,” Cas pleaded like a five year old.

Dean chuckled and slid him a ten dollar bill. “No matter what the price is, tell the bartender to keep the change, k?”

Cas stumbled out of the booth and Sam met Dean’s eyes. “Oh my god, this is amazing,” he laughed in reference to Cas’ giddy behavior.

“Dude, the guy used to be able to drink an entire liquor store and now just three beers gets him wasted!”

“Dean, he’s not wasted, but he’s definitely drunk.” The brothers laughed again. “And who knew he was such a flirty drunk!” Sam added.

“What?” Dean’s brow furrowed. “Where is he? Who’s he flirting with?”

Sam gaped at his brother. Apparently he had no idea what had been going on the whole evening at the bar. “Uhhhh, Dean, with you,” he decided to actually say out loud.

“Sam, what the fuck are you talking about. We’re just friends.” Dean sounded like a ten year old defending his honor from cooties. And for the fourth time that day, Sam’s inner little brother decided to burst through. Oh, Dean was going to love this.

The younger brother left it at that and scanned the bar. He found what he was looking for and planned his next attack. Cas came back with the beers and passed them around, looking very proud of himself for having completed another stepping stone on the path to being a successful human hunter.

Sam then turned to the table and tried to sound as innocent as possible and asked, “So Dean, you already have TWO tattoos,” he let the moment hang in the air for just a split second, “have you ever thought about getting another?”

“To be honest, yeah I have. Was too worried they’d get fucked up in a fight with something though, so never bothered to get one.”

Sam turned to the side where his inspiration stood. “Yeah, I just noticed that guy’s sleeves, seemed pretty cool.” The floppy haired brunette was looking at a god of a man, slim with strong shoulders and chest wrapped in a skin tight black v neck, his clean cut raven hair perfectly styled, a shadow of beard ghosting his strong chin, and sporting an absolutely artistic set of sleeves. Seriously, this guy was so good looking, Sam might have actually wondered for a second if they should investigate whether Adonis had decided to make middle America his home and if he’d be causing any trouble.

Dean whistled, “Hell yeah. If my arms didn’t get sliced open so often, I’d totally do that. That’s hot. Pretty damn fine.” And if Dean’s eyes decided to rake over the guy’s whole body, then that was just his secret. However, Dean just realized all of the innuendos he just said and covered it with a hasty, “I mean, no homo, right?”

Suddenly, Cas piped up, “No homo?” the former angel sounded incredulous. 

Dean coughed, “Ya Cas, it just something guys say to make sure they aren’t taken as being gay.”

“Why feel the need to assert? Why say that about the man over there? He’s certainly very attractive and the designs on his arms only lead one to wonder what else and _where_ else he might also be so finely decorated.” Cas finished up while obviously leering (leering!) at the drop dead fine ass man at the bar.

Sam’s mouth dropped just a bit and he sat wide eyed. This prank was supposed to just get Dean to loosen up a bit in his assumptions. He had no idea that Cas would just out himself so blatantly as playing for both teams.

Dean, on the other hand, had no idea what to do. He’d just been checking out the guy discretely as he sometimes did (because if you get caught checking out a dude in places like this, it was going to get rough real quick as he knew), but Cas was outright gawking at the guy’s ass. What the fuck? Dean could handle if Cas had gotten some action with a chick, but another guy? 

“Isn’t your dad a bit against the whole sodomy thing?” Dean bit out.

And THAT drew Cas away from the sight. He narrowed his eyes and turned to Dean. “God is indifferent to sexual orientation among his creations, as am I. That silly human construct has been killing innocents for centuries. I know that the hunter community may be backward at times, but I had hoped that you would appreciate the small instances of love in humanity no matter the gender identity of the participants. Not to mention that the term sodomy is inaccurately named because the real reason the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were razed was because of their penchant for rape in the surrounding areas and overall demonic activity.”

Now Sam was just gaping because Cas had been acting so human, but suddenly all the righteous fury of his angelic nature was showing through in a discussion about human sexuality.

“Hey, I don’t care. In fact, Charlie is one of our closest friends and she loves the ladies herself. It’s no big, you want to go bang that guy, have at it,” Dean back peddled testily. Someone should honestly give him a gold medal in self control, because his (jealous) retort to Cas could have been so much worse.

However, the good mood was ruined. Dean and Cas weren’t looking at each other, though they didn’t seem angry either, just distant.

Sam decided that this was enough for the day. He’d been reunited with the Ghostfacers, fought a demon, planned strategy with angels, and the last thing he wanted was to referee a fight between his brother and his friend. He suggested that they head back to the motel early to which the two sullen men in front of him agreed. The chilly demeanor had continued back into the room, but Dean and Cas had still gotten into the same bed as they had the day before.

Rolled facing away from each other, Cas let his drowsy, buzzed (though frustrated) self fall asleep. Dean, on the other hand, was wrestling with his thoughts. He wasn’t mad at Cas, he was just… jealous to be honest with himself. Cas was able to just embrace his humanity with a newness and awareness of millennia of existence at the same time. Dean, on the other hand, had decades of repression, jibes from hunters about him being too pretty for the job, old school prejudices from his father ground into his psyche, and genuine fear for what would happen to those (of any gender) that he may love. He can’t just up and decide that yep, he does actually want to literally tap that guy’s ass. Dean threw the covers halfway down as he worked himself into a sweat with his mental and physical squirming.

But at the same time, something had felt so real and raw and downright beautiful today. Dean reflected on the soft touches that they had shared, on his continual defense of his best friend, of the loaded gazes, of the perfect moment they had shared walking with Matthew down the road. Those felt good. The memories he shared with Cas felt right. As he reflected on the positive moments of today, his jealousy subsided and he drifted off a bit later.

In his drowsy, happily (i.e. sexy dreamy time) state, he’d rolled over to face the middle of the bed, and also Cas. The former angel was still sleeping solidly on his side facing Sam’s bed. Dean roused a bit from his sleep and palmed himself in memory of… well he couldn’t remember the dream exactly, but it had been delicious. There were swirling black inky lines on hot flesh and his dick had just fucking loved it. He sleepily opened his eyes and remembered going to sleep angrily at Cas and his private memories of what he really indeed wanted. He looked onto his friend who was sleeping no more than a foot away from him, his t-shirt riding up his body and the edges of his tattoo showing just over his hip.

Dean’s dick, however, was still hard and pointing up straight at Cas’ ass even from a foot away, and oh god was it calling his attention. But his hand was a hair’s breadth away from Cas’ torso, from tracing his fingers over the enochian tattoo and down across the cut hipbones. Dean couldn’t figure out what he wanted more, to palm his aching cock or to skim the surface of his best friend’s side. Really, he SHOULD be debating whether to do any of these or none since he was technically straight despite his wandering recent thoughts and Cas was a dude, a human dude now. Instead, he could only think about Cas’ tat and his own cock and the more he put those ideas side by side in debate in his head, the more they seemed like they should actually go together. 

Before Dean could man up and decide on which one he wanted to touch, Cas roused in his sleep and rolled a bit towards the center of the bed, over Dean’s outstretched hand. Suddenly the choice was really easy for Dean, his dick would have to wait because right now he could gaze at a peaceful Cas while gently stroking his thumb over the sigils on Cas’ torso. The skin had healed perfectly despite that rocky beginning. He had been very careful and almost religious about helping it heal right - not just because he needed to make sure that Cas was adequately protected, but also because he wanted that expanse of skin to look as perfect as he imagined it while on his bed late at night. 

The hunter kept stroking the tanned and inked skin, but then Cas started whimpering and shuddering in his sleep. Dean stopped his fingers quickly and worried that he was the one that had woken Cas up. Fuck, he was bothering him even in his sleep. However, Cas started writhing even more and a pained look passed across his face. Dean then knew what was happening. He’d had more than his fair share of nightmares over the years that he knew Cas was suffering. He gently rocked Cas and called out his name softly.

“Cas,” he whispered. “Wake up. Come on, you’re just asleep, wake up.”

Dean was able to get his attention and Cas’ eyes shot open. He searched around frantically for a moment before realizing where he was. He then turned his head to Dean and relief flooded his eyes. The hunter barely caught it, but he noticed Cas flick his eyes down quickly to Dean’s hand on his side.

“Sorry,” Cas weakly said. “I can’t seem to sleep through the nights most nights. I’m surprised I didn’t wake you up last night.”

“It’s okay, man. If anyone knows how that feels, it’s me.”

“I know…” Cas glanced to the side, seemingly deciding something. “I used to soothe them away - when I’d watch over you. I can’t do that now.”

“Well then, I take back what I said about you watching me in my sleep being creepy. Thank you, Cas. For the help with those.”

“And thank you too, for waking me just now.”

Dean simply looked into Cas’ eyes for a moment. “So what’s got you worked up, Cas? You can tell me. After everything I’ve done and gone through, it can’t be worse than me.”

“You’re wrong.” Cas sounded trite and Dean just raised an eyebrow at him. Cas sighed and decided to acquiesce. “I think fighting and seeing the demon today triggered my worst memories. My dreams make me relive them. I hate them worse than feeling of waking up in the morning - ironic, yes I know.”

Dean huffed a small laugh. “You must really hate them then, because you are a total grouch in the morning.” That got a smile out of Cas. “But really dude, what are your nightmares?”

“They’re of you,” and Dean held a breath during Cas’ sentence, “dying. Over and over… by my hands.” A tear glistened in the faint light from the window as it rolled down Cas’ face.

“Cas, but you didn’t kill me. I’m still here. I’m okay. We got through that. You couldn’t, I know it.”

“But I did,” Cas whimpered. Dean couldn’t stand to see his strong friend look this haunted and small lying next to him beneath the covers.

“What are you talking about?”

“There were thousands of you, Dean. Naomi made me kill everyone of you - over and over and over.” Now many tears were streaming down Cas’ face. In that moment, as much as he hated Metadouche chillin up by his lonesome in Heaven, he was kinda glad that he’d murdered that angel tightass bitch. But now wasn’t the time for revenge, right now was for comforting.

“Cas, I don’t care what she did to brainwash you. I’m okay because when it mattered, you loved me too much to do it. You and me, we’re stronger than the rest of them. Profound bond right?”

The dark haired man looked up pleading for strength and acceptance. “Yes, you and me.”

“Alright, now turn over.” Cas was taken aback by sudden departure from caring and flopped back over onto his side. However, he was pleasantly surprised when Dean pulled up the covers over both of them and whispered in his ear, “You’re always safe under the covers. Bad guys, and bad thoughts, can’t get you under here. It’s what I told Sammy as a kid, but I think it’s still true now.” Dean placed his hand over Cas’ hip, over his protective sigils in his own protective gesture. Dean scooted closer to Cas and was definitely not spooning or cuddling because there was like, a whole inch of space between the two of them (thankfully their heart to heart and helped Dean's boner subside), but he was close enough to keep his strong arms wrapped around the former angel.

Dean’s breath ghosted across Cas’ shoulder, caressing his bare neck, and whispering across this ear, “I’m here for you Cas, always will be, just like you always are for me.” Dean decided in his head to fuck all with his no homo shit for the moment because this is what friends are for, this was what you did for a buddy in arms - you helped them through their shit. And maybe he was wishing that his literal buddy in his arms was something more, but for now, this was good. Cas relaxed with Dean’s grip on his side and let his mind realize that Dean was safe and sound and solid against him and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, not even his wings. Within a few minutes, the two each drifted off into a now restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi, these boys can't get their shit together. In my head, Dean probably would be all over the place in dealing with his new feelings showing up - so sorry to yank you around with all of that.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! As a note, all of the stores/restaurants/etc mentioned are actual places in the actual towns mentioned, so if you're ever in the area, hit them up!
> 
> Another sidenote: I'm totally imagining a more rockabilly [ Adam Levine](http://www.mtv.com/crop-images/2013/09/18/adam_levine.jpg) in that Adonis description, he is sooo yummy
> 
> Of course, as always, I'd love to hear what you think and what ideas you might have as well!


	5. Notes on MIA Status

I know that I do have some people subscribed to this fic (which I'm just like, omg thank you!) and I almost haven't updated it in a year. I started up a Harry Potter project in which I'm the editor in chief of Witch Weekly Magazine and that pretty much feels like a part time job (and I already work full time). I super love the work that we've done :) If you want to check it out, the first issue is on AO3, but we've been publishing everything else on tumblr at witch-weekly-magazine.tumblr.com.

Anyways, I definitely have a plan on where this is going to go and one of the major characters will be Charlie. In light of season 10 featuring her multiple times (SPOILERS: ~~OMG CHARLIE MET CAS LAST NIGHT!~~ ) in addition to the fact that I've had NO time to watch Supernatural this season, I don't want to continue without watching for characterization. I know that my fic is a departure from season 9, but it seems like they really turned around and did a great job with 10. Once I'm able to watch this season, I'll get right to work on writing the next chapter! If you're reading this, thanks for sticking in there!


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